The Squeeze

I met the world today, and I didn't like him. I was up early, felt the fresh breeze of the morning and it felt good. Up and about instead of down and out.

Walked briskly down the road with the rest of the briskers ready to start the day. Ah, what a life!

Have to get train, HAVE TO GET TRAIN, I'm in London, and that’s how productive people spend their days.

I saw all warps of life today, ducked in and out as I went about MY day.

This morning I was a commuter, doing commuter things. The train came; are there really that many people in there, how are they not bursting out the windows? They'll get off at this stop, surely. Doors open-no they don't. Looks like I'll be in there with them.

Squeezed in, there must be more space, surely-there's not.

Where to look? I don't know, but I'm quite content; I’m usually in bed at this time, and I'm not doing this every day, so it’s fine, for now.

They keep getting on, but they never get off.

Why’s everyone in such a rush?

The tube will be better-it's not.

What happens to all those people that don’t get on and wait for the next train, are they sitting in an empty carriage? I highly doubt it.

Here we are, Bank. All the people that aren't local, they flock here just for work, they're from all over, South, East, West and North. Sutton, Streatham, Staines and Slough. Harrow, Hackney, Harlow and Hayes. Raynes park, Reading, Redbridge and Romford. Ealing, Epping, Eltham and Elstree. Tooting, Tunbridge, Tolworth and more. But none of them are from here, add to it, ever been here on a weekend, no.

I'm changing my mind about getting involved in all this. About getting a ‘proper’ job and joining the rat race.

There was a man reading a book about market finance or something on the tube, is that really what you want to read, what are you here for-work, money? You can get it a better way, without taking three hours and more out of your day each day. Read a book with an ending.

But for now I'm a builder, on site.

They're a cocky lot, when they want to be.

And now to the bank, the actual bank-ducked out of one job, into another, where I see dreary offices with highly coloured things on the wall trying to sproose things up.

I’m out now, away from the public transport commuters, with the long line of cars sitting in traffic waiting for nothing to occur.

I saw their jobs-banking, I see my job, building, I see the last job, retailing, I see no differences, so what’s the difference? It’s all work. We travel side by side on the same line, Northern, Victoria or Central, you wear a tie, I wear boots. But we’re still here, I’ll be back tomorrow, but not the day after; I can’t handle the commute

I can’t believe people keep doing this; didn’t anyone notice the radio reports coming out every day and night? This is jammed, this isn’t working; why doesn’t anyone fix it?

We must easily forget; we make it so hard for ourselves. Trudging along going to jobs we don’t like at times we don’t agree with. Didn't anyone realise? Why can’t we make it easy for ourselves?

I thought this morning, this is good, but as time approaches and rolls on I start to dread the journey tomorrow because now I know what to expect, expect the squeeze.