underground railways of modern times.

its the subway, or as they say in london the tube.
a massive vein that writhes its way through the city. moving the individuals from here to there and back again.
so many people, so many differences, its amazing to think it but i took the tube from camden to gloucester square (which is the equivalent of taking a subway from the birth of punk to the home of the posh life) and the variety of people sitting next to each other is a sight to behold. the middle aged original punks, piercings intact sitting next to the old lady from the high life, across from the new generation of punk who dont fully realize and understand the impact and revolution the original punk was having. its just a thrill to watch them and try and understand.
but its also a place filled with absolute loneliness and desperation. amazingly nobody looks at the strangers straight on, sights averted eyes looking elsewhere into the bleak nothingness that goes by the windows. nobody looks at one another, glances are thrown here and there but always cautiously always with a hint of fear of being caught. it gives one the impression that despite being surrounded by the mass of people that flow through the city every day nobody really connects with anyone else. they are all just flowing through the city, afraid to contact any others. a barrier is rising between our individual selves.
went to a museum that had an exhibit on the sex pistols... and despite everything they now stand for, the gift shop was selling sex pistols clothing... which is an insult if it is ever bought. punk was a rebellion, a creation of a movement through the destruction of that which already existed, and to purchase punk clothing is the worst thing a punk can do. but in this day of finding a nich for everyone, nobody thinks of doing that anymore, now its purchase this look or that look and give in to the massive marketing that is forced upon us (not that we ever try to avoid it anyway, its present in everything we do now, there is no escape).