shake me up.

before any of you can really understand me, inside and out. you need to know how it is i live.
i plan everything. mainly for a bit of variety, because when you wake up in the city. tomorrow is today. and yesterday is today. it's all the same. everything.
imagine waking up on a summers day, and hearing, like you should, the bluetit thats nested in the gutter above your room. then imagine, that sound being drowned out by the growling sound of a moterbike engine chugging its way down your road much faster than it should be. followed by cars, a million and one cars all filled with people on there way to offices, schools, appointments. important places right? wrong. but they're important to the people trying to get there. that completely disregard everybody else for the sake of themselves. maybe they need to see a woman in a red dress amongst the blurred grey figures of men in business suits and women carrying they're heels as they walk along in trainers, to make them stop for a second. break the mould. you'll get up and out of habit move straight to get dressed. it matters what you wear, because peoples looks can be chilling. you can see from across the street when somebody disapproves. eyes. they tell you everything. or at least they do when you learn to read them. sometimes i think that because i have unusual eyes, it lets me read deeper into all the normal eyes. searching. for another unusuality amongst the regular. so you find something, reasonably trendy. maybe it was something you could never really afford at the time, but you sacrifice to fit in. because thats the one rule of the city really. fit in. you'll eat at the breakfast bar, the type you only get in city apartments. a knock of version of marble to look better than it really is just like all the neighbours. toast, maybe cereal? nobody has time for origionality here. english breakfast is a rare luxury and its usually cooked at dinner time even then. you grab your bag and leave the house, but the only thing is, if you look around you'll see your not the only one. about 5 other people all around you are stepping out of they're front doors at exactly the same time. only it isnt as pleasant as it sounds. because you don't talk with them, or laugh with them. they've lived by you for years but they're beyond strangers. without identity other than "the guy from across the road". nobody cares about anybody else. sometimes i walk the streets of london and think about how the way the houses are all lined up remind me of how things were in the war. everybody's still living on top of each other really, it's just nobody takes enough time to recognise it. make your way to the tube station, or the bus stop. fascinating isn't it? fascinating to be pushed and shoved as people try and rush for they're platform to get to the same office job as everybody else. it amazes me. if these people have so much in common, why don't they talk? ignorance is bliss. perhaps. you can see people, all weaving in and out of each other reading the metro, like they never knew anything different. they don't look up, they don't stumble or trip. they're all wearing the same colours, same material. its like a haze of nothingness. sure, occassionally you get the odd person colliding with a tourist or somebody that doesnt belong, the flutter of paper and sentences constructed with swear words. even that makes you stop for a second. it's as dramatic as a car crash or a disaster around here. because it never happens. everything's too systematic for that. it's like your born with everyone elses identity. you see the people sitting in over priced cafes, smell the overpowering stench of starbucks coffee as you walk past the windows and see all the people inside. once i wondered why cafe's always have small tables. its because everybody always sits on they're own. you look in and see the sea of faces all looking down at they're laptops, not communicating any better than i am right now. words on a screen. maybe thats why i detest living this way so much. the very same girl i mentioned in my last post showed me that living like a machine. living through machines, isnt always what it's cracked up to be. the hooting of people climbing in and out of black cabs, the people straining they're eyes for the red buses, constantly checking they're watches.
i was born a city boy. but, i don't think i was supposed to be that way.
i used to be reckless. i jacked a minibus and hid it. started smoking too young. drinking. i got piercing's when i knew it'd probably get me killed. vandalised things. even graffiti'd on the back of a church and ended up with a police warning.
then i conformed. became everything i never wanna be again.
no wonder i got myself so miserable. i feel sorry for the rest of the city. all those people that don't have a pixie or a phantom to show them how they're meant to be living, what they're missing out on.
i've never been more excited in all my life about whats coming. what im gonna cause.

im on the brink of a discovery.

"were full of risks because that's who we are. were high voltage"