“It’s the certain feeling that it’s only the law keeping you alive. It all feels so gloomy.”
I can’t tell you how much easier it is to cross four lanes of incoming traffic here, than it is in London.
We all know the feeling of crossing four lanes of black and blue vehicles lined up at a red light. Daunting, despite them being under the order of a red traffic light.
We’ve all had to use that prepared pep in our step when the green man disappears.
The panicky internal stop-clock that starts when the green man disappears and then stops at the landing of the curb of the pavement whilst presenting external composure and poise because I ain’t a bitch and you ain’t gonna run me over if I take my time.
Yup, that’s what I thought.
We’ve come to live in such an idiot-proof environment. It’s the certain feeling that it’s only the law keeping you alive. It all feels so gloomy.
Vehicles look so much friendlier out here. Western 90’s engineering and it’s revolutionary efforts long ago forgotten have been ‘relegated’ to public consumption on the sunny side of the earth.
Though slightly clumsier in their shape, vehicles are endearing and industrious. Friendly. Moody colours are bedded in by an illuminating earthy fur and Arabic remixes to 50 Cent songs.
Roads are inhabited by mobile phone conversations and taxi drivers on the scout. And it all makes for a calmer experience of crossing 4 lanes of traffic.
If I can smugly waltz my away through oncoming traffic and maintain the perfect poise, I live on happy.
If life’s more thrilling moments come behind the wheel of my instincts and under the baton of my confidence, I will be okay.
If my Clarks can kick their way through gold dust more often, I’ll be great.