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Where Albion Ends 2

July 09 2016

Where Albion Ends -Week Two - Just Another Freak, In The Freak Kingdom


The derelict pier is probably my favourite part of Brighton. Haunting and skeletal, it manages to be so unreal and loaded with brooding symbolism. Yet if you sit under it the old stallions buried firm into the beach, like I am now, you can see its crumbling frame isn't black or even brown, but an incredibly deep rust red. You get to see the real tangible qualities that make it seem like the most solid thing in this reality of cop killing snipers being killed by robots with C4 gaffer taped to their heads.

#realityisbleeding folks, smell the wind, check the sky because weirder shit is coming.

People move differently here, it normally takes a day or two to get totally used to the rhythm of any cities crowds around the world, but Brighton is harder than most. The pace is mostly city bustle but without the attendant agreements of standard dense crowd behaviour that city people learn and act unconsciously. But there is a dawdling and clumps of families on holiday.

But I don't get too annoyed if you watch those families, I look for the weird teenager, the awkward one normally head stuck into their phone. Not ashamed of their family but also desperately trying to make the distance between them as large as possible. But now, here, their head is up, they’re reading every poster, peeking through every door. You can practically feel them fall in love with the place. Just like I did.

It's odd to be in a city that makes you smile instead of steadily break your heart.

I’m sitting on the beach but I’m not alone despite a grey sky and a not quite biting wind. But the other people don’t feel like an intrusion. Everyone is quiet and reverential. Maybe enjoying the unreality of it, easing pain by being a brooding character in some gothic story, or taking the edge of their more extreme dramatic thoughts by grounding themselves in the reality of cold and rust. All of us genuflecting on the oceans altar. The burnt out structure both cathedral and requilary of entropy and perspective.


I don't have comments, so any discussion can be pushed over to twitter where I’m @PROBABLYDRUNK or my email dan@dirtybristow.co.uk

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