This is my tiny London bolthole for the past 4 years or so. Am saying goodbye to it; the spirit has to take control over the stubborn mind and body. A friend says I suffer from Spirit of Python, where our legacy wraps itself around us and chokes the life out of us. I gave myself many excuses not to change… “off grid” and hard to find me, place of refuge if needed, missing stimulation out in the regions.

But really it was a gateway to people and places that don’t serve me, and drag me back towards the broad path that ends in destruction. Have a new tenant lined up. No more “posh squat” for me, living unofficially in what is formally a commercial building (but loads of people live here in a rather crazy community of misfits). I have enough photos of skyscrapers for now.

Am hopeful that the catastrophic scenarios for Covid and the cities have been interdicted and terminated. London might be a bit too exciting in a financial reset and genocide reveal. Dull is the new delightful.