I don't live in London and I spend too little time there to even remotely justify a "Londoner" tag. Maybe it is my safe distance that makes my heart blossom when my train rolls into Kings Cross. And of course, the downsides of living in an urban jungle are very much present to me so I can appreciate my current address. However, the feeling of having London "at the doorstep" means I have a friend ringing my bell. Everything I want, everything I am, everything I appreciate, has room in London. Unlike Cambridge, London has all kinds of people, not just the families. Unlike Cambridge, London makes me feel young. And unlike Cambridge, I will be able to drink an (extortionate) cocktail with complete strangers past the crazy hour of 11pm in London.
I thought I was ready for Cambridge and the life it holds. It turns out, I am not. After two years in the worst city in the world, every part of "Cambridge is a tranquil paradise" sounded good to me. Monday through Friday, that works out well for me. But when I finish a week like the one I'm about to finish, the prospect of checking out the two possibilities in Cambridge (lying in bed, doing nothing, or going to a tourist-filled market) just don't hold up. Escapism, to London. I mean, who does that? Yeah, me! I flee the boring life I have finally created and remind myself that I am exciting, able to do pretty fun things with my time and money and, most importantly, not weird for NOT being married and pregnant. Around here, only one place can make that happen...
|A rather chunky early-20 Sina in the big city...|
... until last week. I was walking through London, being affected by some things that have happened, and couldn't accept that my heart had suffered in London. The previous night I had been exceptionally happy, went to a West End show, walked through Soho which I love and felt, unlike so many times, rather comfortable. Then some shitty events changed the mood, and as soon as I had a chance, I left London and returned to where it was ok to feel like that. Not in London. London remains the place where I can forget. That city, hence, is a treasure where all coins are bright because I only filled the chest with the golden ones. It is because of this that I cannot commit to London long-term: life would eventually give me a black coin.
|Even the sights still excite me...|