Do Londoners exist ?

I do not know if humans exist in London. Rationally, we know that a bunch of two-legged creatures are invading the space that is mistakenly christened as the public realm – Are they really existing ?

Satre says, “Existence precedes essence”: Meaning… we do not, as a species, have an pre-ordained nature; an essence that creeps in into our everyday, mundane and our extra-ordinary moments. We merely exist, and it is nauseating.

As much it is difficult to argue with Sartre, it is difficult to determine if Homo-sapiens actually exist in London.

Though I am on the fence about this subject, one thing is clear: Londoners are making a choice to define their essence, including me; sadly, most of us are choosing not to have an existence.

Satre argues that not making a choice is a choice. In more Britishy terms: Doing nothing is doing something.

We are making a choice, very consciously, in fact: Stuffing – hiding your face behind a newspaper – free one (like metro) – is not exactly a decent existence. It is – sadly – a choice not to exist but to only do everything you can so the hell that is the ‘other’ (the other person) does not know, acknowledge or even see you.

Once Londoners quit existing behind the idiotic metro magazine, on the underground – that is ‘the metro’ for you not Brits – is when we begin to create an essence.

The problem is we hide so much behind hiding ourselves; we are so recluse – introverted and customed that we do not affirm who we are, what we can be, what we can change and the endless possibilities and ways of existing.

Nice, expensive clothes, money is not what people really want: That is to say; we do not know what we want other than what we think the guy behind the metro paper would want. We have been integrated into youtube videos, magazines, films, half-emotional stories and, worse of all, advertisement that we think that the other wants the same as us. In fact, the other has conditioned themselves to want, need and behave in the way that hiding has taught us.

No community exists anymore in London – taking our que from the imaginary, symbolic world only.

One night, I got drunk and began talking to random people on the train. A guy shouted at me for “bothering people” – I was not: People were enjoying, laughing at what I was saying.

An Hungarian couple were very interested in what I had to say and, even though the drunk guys next to one of the girls were actually bothering her, the man asked me to quit speaking and refrain from bothering people. Before I shut him up, the girl shut him up with a swift move: “He is not bothering me, but you are now”.

I told him to “get the fuck off the train – and stop watching random acts of kindness videos”.

Since, I have been talking to people without being drunk – feels wonderful, for me at least.

I am existing, guys, and people are not what they seem: Break the youtube random acts of kindness nonsense; burn the metro papers; quit looking at Kim shit for Brains Kardashian’s bum; forget all convention; share one travel ticket among two people: Let’s party, enjoy eachother, learn and exist: Existence is all we have, and let’s not let business interests control it.

For now, you can fuck-off.

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