Let London swallow you whole.
“Am I dying?”
“No, it’s just London.”
“Am I dying?”
“No, it’s just London.”
Today, alone, I zipped my black puffy jacket up the whole way, pulled up my hood and turned up Blink-182 on my iPod. Then I just wandered. Brick Lane on a Sunday is a marvellous place to be lost. Absolutely no one gives a damn.
Angel Islington is one of the pretty pale blue properties on the Monopoly Board. It’s nestled in near Euston Rd, Pentonville Rd, Kings Cross Station, Chance and Jail. For years I idly wondered, whenever I landed on this cheap little property, what angels had to do with it. These were the days before Google, obviously.
It’s been tumultuous, welcoming but life-expectancy-shortening week. A brief rundown is below. No doubt more details will arise in subsequent entries.