I am listening to a song titled "Even better than the real thing" and I am not understanding it at all. What can ever be better than the real thing? I thought about it some more as I drank a very strong cup of coffee and thought about the amount of fake we allow in our lives. We shouldn't. This blog post really is a train of thought that has missed its stop or has left the station without a driver. I came back to England 12 weeks ago and feel settled here thought the London daily commute is not good for me and my stress levels, there is nothing quite like an elbow in your rib cage at 730am or being crushed against someone with evil breath for 20 minutes but these are the things we do to earn our living and I am hardly in a position to complain when this is what I wanted to do (be back in London) and I am not some poor kid in Africa who walks miles for a drink of water etc but this is what us comfortable people in the west do, we complain about the tiniest, trivial t...
