christmas eve in canary wharf

I stopped in to work today for a quick meeting with Ashish, and to catch up on email. I recently synced my ipod (becoming more laborious as time goes by and I get more music) and was listening to billy no mates on the tube, bless those guys for still doing it right. I switched to J-church as I walked up out of the tube station into a nearly silent canary wharf. This took me right back to that day I spent walking around cambridge...

"I walked around in a self imposed headphones isolation but with the whole gang and felt really weirdly close to them."

 

I went straight through "one mississippi" that day, and on to "69 love songs". I'd been really relating to Jchurch that year, because it took me back home a bit when walking in the foreign streets. So on that day, the glowy feeling of the beer, twilight, colleges, the disconnected connection with my fellow students and music mixed in with the melancholy of knowing that it would all be over soon. White noise filtered in from the edges of vision and hearing, and I felt something really beautiful. 10 months later Lance died on a table having his blood cleaned. I found out 3 months after that.

Stepping up into the silent wharf, listening to one mississippi and feeling a bit alone, I suddenly felt really sad. Tears are no good at work, even on christmas eve, so I turned poor Lance off, wiped my eyes and walked through the front doors.

I'm really, really sorry, Lance.