So I’m on a tube. Speeding from Baker Street to Waterloo. Ion the silver shiny jubilee line. 

This was my old commute down to Canary Wharf. Today I get off earlier but oh how much have I reacted to this trip? I feel such a sense of loss as I stand here avoiding tourist backpacks. This was my life. Big business, big numbers and big ideas. And although I know that if I was given a choice to return I wouldn’t, the point is I WASNT given a choice when I gave it up. It gave me up. 

And so I stand on the platform listening to New Order’s True Faith and feel a wave of emotion. A fricasee of feelings. Such sadness but underneath it…a tiny little pearl of resolution. 

I’ve been feeling lost  recently. No direction. But now I’m hoping that that little bit of grit in the smooth silky sadness will stop me from wallowing and slowly drowning. That hard edge of refusal to slide away was almost lost to me for a while there. I’m damned if I’m going down without a fight. I’ll hold onto this tiny thought and catch my breath. And then….onwards and upwards. Onwards and upwards.   


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