the city never sleeps

i would love to put london in a bottle. pack it in and take it with me. to far off places. the smells and yells of the underground. the way it hits you as you submerge into a vast network of lines and stations. the warm air blowing in your face as you wait on the platform. behind the line. minding the gap. the sound of the tube approaching. the screatching and the sparks. everybody shuffling forward. northern line. picadilly. or bakerloo. an oven without personality. the endless possibilities of your relationship with your oyster card. standing there. armed with oyster. staring at the map. where shall we go. you alight when the drumming the shoving the pushing becomes to much. you alight at the next stop while this is a district line service to upminister. you alight. the escalator is your staiwya to heaven. rolling you on to the next costa or nero. avoiding starbucks. you are bombarded by food sections. today m&s. tomorrow waitrose. the choice of kings when you feel like snacking before catching the next red bus or waving town a black cab. the bells and whistles. the noise of the streets. the flashing tourists around embankment. leister square. or china town and the west end. marching like ants on a mission. you can stop and close your eyes. to hear the city. you can escape to the parks. green. hyde. or primrose hill for the fancy and grand. even there you have sounds that makes the place the city it is. amuse yourself. find a spot and watch the people pass by. sloane street. kensington. sw15. hackney. primrose hill. mayfair. shepherds market. the amazing victorian architecture. the quiet side streets out of the buzz and the hussle of the city. just wondering around and absorbing. spending endless afternoons in waterstones bookstore. or finding a small second hand bookstore down one of the many dirty side streets close to borough market. the amazement of how far you can travel for £1. but not even being able to buy anything worth mentioning from a street vendor for the same price. watching people on buses and trains. the things they keep themselves busy with. ipods. cameras. books. the metro. the london light. girlfriends. boyfriends. texting. speaking. phoning. sleeping. waking up at the right stop. clocks built in. the stampeed at waterloo. the waiting for an indication of platform and then the rush. shuffling. stumbling. running for the train. the wonders of public transport. night buses that takes you from kings cross to puntey. football pages in the daily mail. the latest transfers. the tabloid news. the rain. the dark months of november. the jubilation of summer in august and everything after. a bonus. it creeps under your skin. the city never sleeps.