An Ode To Glasgow.

How your streets are filled with scum and yet glorius geniuses as well.



That's it.


Okay, so today there was a power outage on the train tracks and stuff, and my Mum was sending me text messages to give me the lowdown on what was going on and how I was going to get home. At 6pm I left work, I walked to the station and found out my train would be in at 6:29 rather than 6:17. Which isn't too late, but I was at the station 12 minutes early for the 6:17 train. So I opted to see if the fast bus was about. I went down the bus stop where I used to stand years ago to get the bus home from town.

Many buses passed that went to my house, but you'd only get on those if you had a spare 9 hours. I wanted the fast bus. I was starting to give up hope and started thinking about worth of time against the worth of money. I'd already spent £14 for the week on my train ticket. So I would be paying another £1.50 and the bus wasn't there yet, which meant that when I did get it I would essentially be paying more to take longer to get home, but at least I would be moving rather than waiting. I really don't like waiting.

While I was debating all of this there was a group of three of the ugliest people I've ever seen. One girl, and two guys – they got on the bus to Milton and left my sight, thank goodness. Prior to their leaving I couldn't stop staring because they were so ugly looking. They had faces of junkies, all worn and torn and saggy. One of the guys in the group threw down an empty juice cup that he had bought from the McDonalds restaurant behind us. After they left I continued my wait and decision as to whether I should just go and wait on the train.

What sealed the deal was a total jakey bas' who was about 5 foot 11 and I noticed him because he started backing into 'my space'. He was holding his phone and filming some pidgeons near his feet. He'd thrown half of his manky McDonald's burger on the ground and the birds were flocking. He then filmed and preped his foot, with his arsehole cohorts looking on. He then ran into the pidgeons and kicked into the group as hard as he could, not caring how many he hit, just as long as he hit one.

There was nothing I could do except stand there in utter disgust. My stomache was churning, the acid was rising. I had an overwhelming desire to stand up for what I knew was right/wrong, and yet, because this was the city centre of Glasgow, because it was a pidgeon, and because he had a team of people who would love to fight. I couldn't. Seriously. I would get stabbed. That ultimate fear of not being able to speak out against something cruel and disgusting because the same thing would happen to me as happened to the pidgeon is horrible.

I left. And got the train, with people who are a little more respectable and decent.

I seriously need to get out of Glasgow. I love this city so much, but I only like it when I can live in my bubble and not have to be witness to the actual violence that is fuelled here by lack of education, lack of parenting, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, the need to feel worth something by making other things and people feel worth nothing, the need to feel power by overpowering those weaker... although beautiful, and full of life, Glasgow can be a putrid vile and disgusting place. But I suppose everywhere is like that.

I've actually continued to stay upset about the pidgeon incident all night... that's about 4 hours.

Pure wickedness.