Time to leave Behind
The East End Mind
and the London Blind.
Was mugged in Vauxhall/Kennington on Monday night. I was unscathed in body. My shaken animal self was calmed by the phone and the discussion boards. What was left could not be expressed in English but stewed in my inner cauldron.
This happened after going to see the Killers. A Las Vegas band that is overhyped by critics. The twentysomethings of the chattering classes were gathered like parasites in the black bowels of the Forum in Kentish Town.
I learned everything I ever wanted to know about cremation on Sunday. At the City of London Cemetery's 100th anniversary of their Crematorium. Large ovens that swallow coffins and burn them at 800 degrees, reducing years and years of life into little boxes of ashes.
3 successive events that seem to spell out an omen. Thence switching the mind into a state not describable in written form.