… hasn’t been home for a long time now. And yet, it still weirdly feels just as much my home as some desert remote places in the world. I feel me, here. There are so many thousands of different types of people wherever you are, say a tube carriage. And within them, I feel me. I know who I am, what “type” I belong to more than anywhere else.
The other thing is I miss it. I miss navigating the city and the tube as though I always knew where I was going. Because I did. In no matter what condition I was, I always knew my way around.
I’ve had to check the boards to make sure I was heading in the right direction.
And finally, man who is sounding quite posh and getting off at Cambridge, you may have been drinking gin, but you still make the carriage stink.
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