my loving and loathing of london
I love London. It’s a bitter sweet love that has me swaying from one extremity of myself to the next. The things I truly love often become the same things that I loathe and as a result I hang, temperamentally, in a place that has me wondering how many year of London life I have left in me. How long can I accept a life sans equilibrium?
I love that there is always something to do here – the fact that you never have an excuse to be bored – but I hate that I constantly feel pressure to partake in everything. It’s this voice inside that tells me that I am going to be letting someone down if I don’t engage in every social event for which an invite comes my way. But I’m so tired!
teeter, teeter, teeter…
I love that we enjoy the worlds ‘best’ public transport system; I hate that it eats into approximately 2 hours of your average Londoner’s day. I can’t really gripe about this as I am of a rare breed that is able to walk to work but, at times, when I do have to go somewhere, I have to accommodate half the evening just to travel. Considering I can’t drive I am most grateful to the District Line but, had there been no TfL to speak of, I may have been forced to learn to drive. Now I’m 24 with an expired learner’s.
sway, sway, sway…
I love that you meet so many truly wonderful people here – most that you would never otherwise have met– but I hate that, so often, these friends are in your life for what seems a fleeting moment and then these life-changing people are gone and there is a momentary gap that they used to fill. But as harsh as it sounds, someone else comes along and soon everything feels okay again but you start to question if this apparent nonchalance makes you fickle, even heartless.
wobble, wobble, wobble…
I love that I live in the centre of the world - travelling to the furthest corners of the Earth suddenly becomes a reality – but I hate that once I’ve paid London prices for everything, cleared bills, fed myself and gone out a few times, I’m left with enough to see a handful of places and simply dream that one day I’ll be in a position where I can just pack my bags and see the world. How is it that adult life ensnares you like a well hidden jungle trap and before you realise you’re stuck right in the middle of it?
totter, totter, totter...
Don’t mind me. Sometimes I just love to hate this place.
I love that there is always something to do here – the fact that you never have an excuse to be bored – but I hate that I constantly feel pressure to partake in everything. It’s this voice inside that tells me that I am going to be letting someone down if I don’t engage in every social event for which an invite comes my way. But I’m so tired!
teeter, teeter, teeter…
I love that we enjoy the worlds ‘best’ public transport system; I hate that it eats into approximately 2 hours of your average Londoner’s day. I can’t really gripe about this as I am of a rare breed that is able to walk to work but, at times, when I do have to go somewhere, I have to accommodate half the evening just to travel. Considering I can’t drive I am most grateful to the District Line but, had there been no TfL to speak of, I may have been forced to learn to drive. Now I’m 24 with an expired learner’s.
sway, sway, sway…
I love that you meet so many truly wonderful people here – most that you would never otherwise have met– but I hate that, so often, these friends are in your life for what seems a fleeting moment and then these life-changing people are gone and there is a momentary gap that they used to fill. But as harsh as it sounds, someone else comes along and soon everything feels okay again but you start to question if this apparent nonchalance makes you fickle, even heartless.
wobble, wobble, wobble…
I love that I live in the centre of the world - travelling to the furthest corners of the Earth suddenly becomes a reality – but I hate that once I’ve paid London prices for everything, cleared bills, fed myself and gone out a few times, I’m left with enough to see a handful of places and simply dream that one day I’ll be in a position where I can just pack my bags and see the world. How is it that adult life ensnares you like a well hidden jungle trap and before you realise you’re stuck right in the middle of it?
totter, totter, totter...
Don’t mind me. Sometimes I just love to hate this place.
posted by foxy_roxtar at 1:10 PM
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