Leaving London

1 : Distant Friends

The sun's just beginning to fall out of the sky as I leave London, half an hour to clear the clutter of houses, clinging to the edge of the vibrant capitol. And the heat of the day is slowly ebbing away from my mind, cool air circulating through the train as people settle down for the long journey home. Stuck in our huddles and clusters, again I'm struck by how bad we are at including those around us, how rude we are to sit opposite a friend and leave them as a stranger, never asking who they are or why they live their life, why they're here now and what they long for. Never letting them be who they are, but by our silence forcing them to be at best a recluse, and at worst the lifeless character that we imagine them to be in our minds.

So, I leave this place, and as the county drifts by through the grubby windows, trees and lakes merging into the bright blue sky, showing natures victory over man's invasion, my mind goes back to where I've been, the friends I've just left.

And I wonder when I'll return, if we'll ever be together again, just these few friends, drifting apart, driven by distance to make new lives, in which we can get by without the support that we used to rely on. And we're okay, but different. So over a few hours we catch up, share our thoughts and begin to open our hearts again, to claim back some of what we've lost, some of what we had.

Now I'll store this up in my heart, and feed on it over the coming months, knowing it'll be a long time before we come together again.

And I'm heading home, happy to be travelling back towards my life, remember the last four years like a dream, as if just by coming back to London for a weekend I'd shot back in time to when I lived there. But the dream fades even faster than the ones I have at night of strange faces in familiar places. And now it's real, the two worlds I live in collide, and merge, becoming one and I know I have the benefit of both. And I'm happy.

2 : Lost Lives

The sun's nearly down now, and somewhere over the ocean it's rising again, about to shine into the lives of millions of our neighbours as it wakes them with it's fresh morning rays. I wonder who's watching the sky now with me, all around the world people are looking up, straining to see the stars come out, the moon glow and the bats flying overhead. Looking at planes with their cargo of businessmen and students travelling, and clouds wafting along on the summer's breeze. Watching and waiting for rain, waiting for life to fall from the sky, to revive dry ground, to ensure the crops for another season. Glancing up afraid, scarred that the fighters will return and drop more bombs from the comfort of their cockpit, ending the lives of hundreds of people they never knew, never looked in the eye, never smelt their sweat and blood drying in the heat of the day. Looking, longing for rescue, for someone to drop aid, to take them out of here, out of danger. Sleepily gazing into the summer's sky, relaxing in the park, a dog barking in the distance, kids playing with a frisbee as their mother prepares lunch at home. All around the world it's the same sky, the same light and dark, the same joy and fear. But where and when you are will dictate how you look into the sky, what you're waiting to see.

I'm looking forward, thinking of friends at home, and of work, and all that lies ahead of me this coming week, of plans and hopes. And wondering vaguely where I'll be next year, what will lead me to change, who I'll be with and where I'll be going. But most of all I wonder what I'll be looking for in the sky. I hope that it'll be the birds on the wind, fluffy white clouds gently rolling by, the crescent moon hiding in the light blue evening sky, waiting to follow the sun round and around our world.

I hope that it won't be war, and fear, and hatred of men I don't know. I hope it won't be rain, bringing me down and dashing my hopes.

And one day I know I'll look up and see nothing, my eyes will fail and I'll die. So at that moment instead of looking up I'll have to look back, dwell on my life at that short pause in time. So what will I see on that day in that place, the lies of a man or the truth of a life that speaks for itself? Will people remember my words or my actions, my victories or my losses? Will they remember my face or my name, my glory or my shame? How can I know who I'll be on that day, how can I plan when I don't know how long I have to be who I want to be? Surely the only safe bet is to work at it now, to live and to grow. To become who I want to be before it's too late, before I get the chance to say "If only I'd known, if I'd seen I'd have changed, I'd have lived and not lied, I've have looked in your eyes and I know that I'd have to have cried, to have wept and have given my all, my life". So this is the time, to start to change, to become who I am.

I think back again, look back on the years that I've lived, on the people I've known and the places I've been, the hopes and the dreams that I've had and either seen or let go of in time. So what do I make of it, my life so far? Do I remember the joy or the scars? Do I feel love in my heart or hurt and fear, do I live in the past in my mind or have I driven it deep down out of sight? Well for me it's amazing, I'm so thankful that I've had a good life, been safe and encouraged to achieve, to taste and to see the world, to travel and know my mind. I'm glad that I have strength of mind, that I've always been confident in what I believe, sometimes I'm wrong mind you, and I've had to change, to accept things that I once thought were lies. And what's my life been, apart from my family who have I touched, who have I changed, and who's molded me into the person I am as I stand at this point in my life? There's so many people and endless situations that have made my life what it is, most have helped but some hindered as I've walked along this pathway of life.

The sun's tricked me again, and is still in the sky, lingering on and burning my eyes as I look at it's red glow. Maybe it's loitering here, wanting to stay and not to continue its day that it knows will wake the soldiers who rest, but later will fight, saving its might for a people of peace.

3 : The Start of the End

Now as we wait in this train, delayed again and my mind at rest, the voices around me filter into my thoughts, talk of the world, laughter and play, babies and old men, the start and the end. The leaves on the trees glow golden and green, bright in the evening shadows. And the mobile phone companies will smile as the hold-up makes their networks buzz with the hum of delayed loved ones, wanting to make sure that their lift will be there and stating again and again that they're still on the train and will be late, again.

The heat of the day becomes the cool of the evening, still and calm like it should be, but I long for a storm, for torrential rain to pour out of the sky and refresh the air, for the thunder to burst as the bolts of lightening explode the air and echo their light down from the black clouds. Light coming from darkness again. And before all this time, a big bang was the beginning of time, or was there something before, maybe a little bang, or a big crunch, or is that still to come? What was there in the days before, a mass of energy waiting to show itself, to form the universe? What was there, all the particles that are now spread around the universe, all the liquid and gas, the rocks and the blocks of matter. But what does this matter, what does this mean, where was the life in this world making machine? Where was the smile on that day that began, where was the tear in the eye of the child, where was the song or the warmth of your touch, where was the truth that shines through it all. What was there on the day before, who pressed the button to start it all off? Who will be there when we're all dead and gone, when the sun's supernovaed and swallowed our home? Who's there each day as the morning's bright sun fills us with hope, and as our days run by, who's there in our eyes?

I walk around in my disguise, pretending that I'm a man, a mere animal who's learnt to talk and to smile, but surely I'm more than this, more than another random mistake, as the cows lie down to sleep in the fields. Surely I'm a soul, wrapped up in flesh, someone who'll live on, beyond this place, someone who's made, with loving hands, on a long journey home that's only just begun. Surely there's life after this world, as each new day arrives I'm more and more sure that we're just playing a game, running a race, showing that we want to get through those gates. So I need to find the key, to make sure I'm safe, I want to safeguard my place. If there's more than this world, if there's something to hope for, to long for, to know, then I want to go and not be turned away, not be put to shame. I want to live on, under this sun, but when it sets on my life I'll be under another, and I hope that I can look up in the sky and smile, knowing I'm safe and not lost and alone. Not broken and dry like a bone, but alive and complete and surrounded by others who have woken up from this dream and begun to live real life, not this game, this shadow, this pain.

Now my heart's flying high, longing for that day to come, for the beginning of time, for the start of a new life.

Let's begin. There's little point waiting for the end to come before we start to live this new life. I've known it now for a few years, been born again to live in a new way, to leave my lies and live in a true way, I've begun.

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