Ldn

I found myself walking through these streets once more, moved by their grandness and the sense of possibility. I was able to experience all together the times I spent there with friends, lovers, and alone, often with the feeling of being there for the first time. Rediscovery of self and place is what this city feels like to me: a place that has seen projects of mine come to life and fills my mind and heart with effervescence.

I have attached to my heart a version of it that exists only in those conversations I shared with my friend Alan when he was living there before he passed away, making me aware that I am alive, and that I will forever be missing the chance to see this city together.

The city itself has changed so much from the idea I had of it as a little boy, watching TV shows that made it seem like the centre of the universe. Then there was the time I first experienced it in the biting cold of winter, escaping with a lover when I was still living at home and telling my parents I was with the family of my closest friend. Or the night my leather jacket got ruined waiting in the queue for a club, because of guys who threw eggs from a car at us while shouting “faggots.”

I had stepped back from the encounters I’ve had here over the years and into a normalised, less grand version of it. I set foot in it like someone who’s been around the block, judging what is missing, what used to be better. And the rhythm of the city helped with that plot because it had changed once more: old buildings replaced by modern developments, nothing new, of course, just the global modern scheme of progress.

It’s funny how its influence on me slipped under my radar. Have I grown jaded? Or am I just forgetful? I went there thinking I was more detached than personally tied to it. But I was in the middle of it, covered in chills, overwhelmed, thankful that it felt both foreign and familiar. Thankful that I have the chance to be moved, touched. Glad to get goosebumps just by standing there, somewhere.

Ldn, 2025