31 January 2013
I stand in a street surrounded by people in black and grey. Black satchels, black coats, black gloves, black shoes. Grey trousers. Their faces are grey from stress. Their phones pressed to their cheeks, muttering anomalies and codes. They observe society through monotonous eyes. Monotonous lives, monotonous people. Don't they ever go home? They often say they love their jobs. Does that mean they have nothing to go home to? These black and grey people on these drab, flat, London streets. I hope they go home soon.
I stand in a street surrounded by people in multicolour. Brown satchels, rainbow umbrella's, nude heels, coloured ties with cats and dogs on. Their faces a multitude of emotions. Some laugh, some cry, some angry. Their phones pressed to their cheeks, whispering sweet nothings to their loved ones. They observe society through rose tinted glasses. Beautiful lives, beautiful people. They're on their way home. They love their families. Does that mean they are here for no reason? These multicoloured people on these busy, humdrum, London streets. I hope they come back soon.
Just A Point Of View • Opuss № I