
I was sitting there with this tall Disney building in full view, being forced to remember an old acquaintance who was supposed to be working there till last month, on its top floor. Somehow imagining him pulling out his car from snazzy underground car park amongst other prestigious and, or wasteful cars such as X5, or maybe 350Z, to go home, in a headache causing traffic like this, day after day after day. Him doing so was looping in my head like that GOLF TV ad,
No idea why I was thinking of you, you are just a distant memory to me now. God, I miss your BS ranting, well, no, not really. Never mind, the point is that I have too many memories around that part of London, despite the fact I've only been passing through there and never even had one drink in the town. Why do I have to get melancholy by sitting in front of Apollo, is a mystery to me, I have spent far more time in Camden, or Vauxhall.
Then I saw this guy, a really old guy with a cane, with a bag or two from a corner shop. His steps are narrow, so narrow in fact he barely moved when he leaned forward.
I sat there amongst all things in all kinds of motion, this guy was stagnant as if to make the statement to the world that his body was held down to the geographical spot there by the force of the planet, or he was in a different time flow.
On the background the traffic began to sped, against the blurry old guy, or at least it began to appear that way to my eyes.

The traffic slowed down hell of a lot after he was gone. I was stuck there for altogether 4 hrs. I got tired of having visions on a loop about someone whom I was meant to have forgotten, very much regretting not to carry a book or magazine, so blared out Bill Evans tunes and pretended that Hammersmith was one big giant movie.
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