I love walking. I walk a lot in London. Grudge tells of some of the stories that float in my head when I walk. There is something beautiful about walking in a big city, getting lost in the crowd, feeling that loneliness that comes with being surrounded by people by remaining in your individual isolation. Being just with yourself when life buzzes around you, indifferent to who or what you might be. You may dream, cry, smile, feel sad or happy, just on your own. Watched, to a degree, but not cared for. It’s pure. It’s life.
I have a love and hate relationship with London. It’s been going on for a good while and doesn’t seem to fade! Sometimes we can find beauty in things that are worrisome and downright scary. Isn’t that what life is about? Isn’t that great?
Grudge
I am a stranger in this place
Faces and sounds without grace
I am a stranger in this world
Hanging on yesterday’s word
Like peeling an apple of its skin
Like freedom as a deadly sin
Like running through a field of green
Like kissing a lover for what’s been
I am a stranger in this city
Words and songs carry no pity
I am a stranger in this dive
Carrying a burden of mine
Like moving through water with no weight
Like losing your head for a heavy weight
Like I took you at your word
Like a fool I’ve got burned
I am a stranger in this room
You couldn’t see where I’ve been
I am a stranger in this bed
My dreams belong to another’s head
Like waiting for angels who can’t fly
Like wearing loneliness as a charm
Like screaming when no one hears
Like the city that never sleeps