0715

1) Monday mornings are an adventure in itself I believe. Especially when I'm travelling through what could possibly be the busiest station in London. It's a learned skill trying to keep my patience in check when I'm in King's Cross - what with people running, pushing, cussing all the time. Everyone is in a rush, it seems. Would it hurt to be a little late? Everyone looks so similar, nothing stands out. Work attire, black, white, grey. Logos on bags. Brand names. Goldman. UBS. Microsoft. White strings coming out of each year. So common, its disgusting. This morning Simone's Sinnerman was playing on my iPod. Sinnerman, where you gonna run to. How befitting, I thought. How ironic.

I take the same route each day in that station. Each time saying hello to that old man who stands next to the Metro newspaper stand. When he sees me coming, he picks up a copy for me. Morning. Each time passing by that pillar with that metal plate, engraved on which are names of those who were sacrificed in the 7/7 bombing. And each time, that same thought, same fear. What if it was my time today? I still haven't told a lot of people a lot of things. Hmm, maybe I should do something nice for them today. Wait, that's my train! Down the stairs. Run. Run. Shit. Missed it.

So, where was I?

2) I swear there are lil' mini-creatures that creep out of my pockets and then tangle my headphones when I'm not looking. I can sit idly on the tube/train, arms folded, and without knowing I get knots in my headphones. I bet those lil buggers throw themselves mini high-fives after each successful feat.

3) This morning in the tube, there was a moth flying around my face. So I grabbed the newspaper and started flapping it across my face and then *Flap!* It hit the head of the old man sitting in front of me. I apologised. He couldn't stop laughing.

4) Wouldn't it be easier if humans were seen in the extremes of good or bad? But if that were possible, I wouldn't know what to do about it. Follow the crowd? Which crowd? That crowd which gives me that spiritual/mental uplift I so desire, or that other crowd I'm afraid I might fit in?

Too bad we humans crave to be given a chance to not be seen in black and white, hoping that the blend of the two may well justify who we are, justify why we do the things we do.

Humans are never all good or all bad. I've struggled to understand that fact for awhile. And I once thought that it was clever to give a whole breadth of meaning to 'good' and 'bad' and then label people as I see fit. Attempts proved futile definitely. And as much as I've tried to get rid of the so-called 'bad' seeds in my life, I somehow realise that they're the ones who empower me in the most inexplicable ways. The friend who knows squat about what I do for a living, knows my life history by heart. The other friend whose gold-digging sprees I personally do not condone (by principle and by the fact that it is virtually impossible), is at the door the minute I call for help. The other friend who doesn't believe in god/religion, swears by giving to the poor and strikes up random conversations with the homeless on the streets. The man who once broke my heart knows me like the back of his hand.

I guess, in a grand scheme of things, things do exist/happen in a delicate balance of good and bad. This colourful and captivating spectrum which emanates through this shade of grey is growing on me somehow. And I don't think I'd want it any differently.