You are here. It is almost as intimidating as staring at a completely blank page. You don’t know where to look first, you don’t know if you should start with a word or simply with an exclamation mark. Overwhelmed, nervous, and full of aspiration you take one step and it begins.
Typing. Walking. One more step. One more word. The cars are roaring and the words are fluttering their wings in your head. Is this the contemporary waltz? Or a lost battle between concrete and abstract? The mesmerising atmosphere is leading the dance. Grey, blue, grey and blue, dusty blue, and ashy grey. This is your stage.
The page is not blank anymore. Slowly, slowly the waltz helps you to move on or forward.
You, little time traveller. You enjoy it so much, don’t you? No, you don’t even realise that at some point, the music must stop. Oh no!
We always think it is too soon.
The end got you exactly in front of the statue. You are so dazed… it’s hard to say if Eros is alive, or you are made of cold steel. The Victorian buildings are back in place. The windows silent again, but the cement decorations will always remind you of the royal ballroom. And you smile.
Nothing compares with the moment after the curtain falls. You put on paper everything that needs to be shouted. Now, please wake up and remember that one day, you danced in Piccadilly Circus. Full stop.
Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world.
Voltaire
Cami's London 