Hackney.

I walk past Hackney Central; avert my eyes from the homeless guy on the street;
Ignore another guys pleas for “spare change please!”; and another’s hopeful glances filled with a desire for quick and easy sex.
It's okay.. we've all gotta dream..
I notice a group of drinkers by the park benches; how happy they all look; how dirty they all look; I imagine they would treat me with far more kindness than the guy in the suit that just stepped off a bus apparently unaware of the mother and baby in front of him
He didn’t apologise; no time I suspect...guy has a train to catch

I walk along the pathway near Sutton Square and get annoyed as a cyclist comes too close, too fast, for my comfort
In my mind I curse all cyclists, fearing them more dangerous and less courteous than the drivers they fear... and they curse.
As I reach the zebra crossing I wait for a car to stop. One driver accelerates, passes by; in my mind I curse him too; call him an arsehole and possibly racist.
Soon both sides have stopped and I am free to cross. I do so tentatively, looking out for rogue drivers; not quite trusting both sides.. enough; I don’t trust anymore.

The sound of youngsters permeate the silence, and smart red jackets dazzle me as I make my way though the tribe. I hope they look back at their school days as the happiest days of their lives, as I sometimes do. Yet I wish them years of happiness ahead, as they become the men and women of tomorrow.
There aren’t many people outside the mental illness centre. The weather's changing so I guess they're inside, keeping warm, at least I hope so. I hope so because I remember last winter seeing a woman with huge drooping breasts and no bra, walking aimlessly around in the freezing cold with nothing but the flimsiest top and ill fitted pants on. It's as if she'd lost everything.. the day she lost her mind. I wished she had a coat; If will alone could produce objects...my will be done that day...but it wasn’t to be. I pray she finds them both this year.

I walk past life and death, and feel energised. Grateful to be on the outside right now .. heck, I've had children in that hospital... my dad died in that hospital.

Chatsworth Road
In the week it’s filled with cultural diversity; weekends... not so much. I pass my favourite greengrocers, and then remember I need onions and go back. I pick up a big bag and share a joke with the cashier as a police siren drowns out our voices and almost changes the mood. I watch the van turn the corner I need to walk down. We agree something must be happening ‘down there’ in my mind I pray they're not headed for my home.
I take my change and walk on. I avoid looking at the group of guys on the corner. Every day I see them, every day they see me. Still... their presence makes me feel safe; like... brothers.
Over the weeks a lot has changed, they’ve turned the space into a small business, it’s all taxi cabs and fruit and veg now, imagine...and all that time I thought they were just chillin’

I’m almost home and I’m grateful.
The police van has found its destination and I can relax.

I love walking
This, is my neighbourhood ,