Awake

Charles Dickens suffered from insomnia. He used the additional hours granted to him by this affliction, to observe the restless metropolis and the antics of its population.

I prefer to ride the night bus and alight at random stops, casually acknowledging the nocturnal societies, societies comprised of socialites, students, shift workers and ill-tempered mini cab drivers, a humbling and haunting cohort.

As much as a person may fear for their safety, there is a disturbing comfort that exists within night time. The city lies in limbo, between the routine escapism of the night just passed and the savage bustle of the day to come. These early hours of inebriation and hallucination are probably the most honest moments that can exist within a place such as this.



- I write in order to avoid talking, for you see as a human, I suck at talking.

Location:The N29