Man
Amidst a broiling sea Of beautiful people, A tide of every creed and colour Lithe and shining in ecstasy I stop and stand to stare.
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Amidst a broiling sea Of beautiful people, A tide of every creed and colour Lithe and shining in ecstasy I stop and stand to stare.
Standing at the automatic doors, Hearing laughter and uproars. People walking everywhere, There's little room; where's the air. Bags of all the different sizes, Full of objects, gifts, surprises.
Reading papers, mobile phones, train delays, people moan. From his crouched inebriation, Pissed and unsure of his destination.
I sit in the corner, like a moving mannequin in the window of life. To my right the intense colony of people rushes by in every speed and direction, going about their lives.
What's the difference smile or grin. Is a smile for her. And a grin for him. The smile, full of elegance and grace, Truly a beauty on a women's face.
I giggle every morning, On the train to Clapham junction. It's the cartoon in the metro, Learn to speak cat is its function.
I felt slightly uncomfortable in the company of all these men. That was strange as it never normally bothered me but this was different. I felt like I didn't belong and they knew that.
People are wearing shorts. I don't understand why, it's freezing.
Sunday Morning, Walking to the coffee shop Some observations... Everyone looks like they have drowned: pale and weary, hungover still perhaps. The slow march to buy coffee goes on.
Some people wear it to show their wealth the more rings on there fingers or the bigger the hoops the wealthier they apparently look.
To the tune of The Sound of Silence. Is it a death or gangland dare. That's brought this evenings wailing blare. Has there been a fatal accident. Do the cops know where that stolen car went.
Have you ever played that game While in a traffic queue You know that made up one Wonder what they do.
....
Bus, seats upright,. Busy, bumping ride,. Seatbelt too tight,. Passengers being snide,. The stuffy bus air,. Drivers road rage,. Doesn't give a care,. Like being stuck in a cage,.
Decided to get a bus to the cinema today. Haven't been on one for many years. Owning a car it's much more convenient to just jump in the motor and park next to where I'm going.
I have a solar panel Fixed upon my skull It powers a sex machine One that's never dull. When I see a combover I can't help but grin Especially when it's horizontal In an unforgiving wind.
What to write about. What to write. There's no inspiration Within my sight.
I was going out with a friend when we saw a woman with a nose ring attached to her ear by a chain. My friend said "Ouch that must hurt everytime she turns her head.
There's a woman who gets on my bus in the morning with two kids in tow. It's a long journey and the children are loud, young, argumentative and boisterous.
A shuffling of feet. A slurp of strong, black, bland tea. A clearing of the throat. A sea of black. A cough. A sneeze. A whimper. A funeral.
Here I sit on the train once more. Facing an obnoxious bore. Self obsessed with profit and loss. Spouting his eternal dross. His colleagues roll there eyes and scoff. Wishing he'd just bugger off.
On the train up to london. It's packed with people going up to cheer on their friends or loved ones, and secretly hoping they don't drop down dead half way around.
Im sitting in a waiting room right now and its got me thinking. When sitting in a waiting room you're surrounded by random people.
You're my friend. Each of you. And I'd like to read about you more. That's why I'm actually here. To read blogs and stories of interesting, boring, rich or poor people.