The Day I Thought About Graffiti

I'm not 100% sure which motorway it's on, or whereabouts... but there used to be this graffiti on a fence in a field on the side of - I think - the M40 coming into London that said "Why do I do this every day?" in big letters. This graffiti has now been painted over with more graffiti that says, among other things "sweaty bollox". I'm not particularly impressed by this; I liked the old graffiti - it was in really simple letters, the only thing on this fence, facing all the commuting traffic, and I liked to imagine that it was painted by, perhaps, a banker who drove into London every day to work 9-5 in a big office, then back out again to his comfortable home in Buckinghamshire, until one night he just couldnt take his mundane, anonymous life anymore, so crept out into the field one night, tie blowing loose in the wind, to paint his angst for everyone to see. Then perhaps he would have run away to an Indonesian island, to sit in a hammock sipping a cocktail, thinking of all the commuters left behind to look at his reminder of their monotonous lives. OR I thought it was painted by a young graffiti artist who wanted to impress on the commuters that there are other, more anarchic, ways of living, but that they too will result in the same monotony. It could go either way.

Today I talked to middle-aged people about my life at uni. It wasn't particularly interesting. I have an intense dislike of talking to people that I feel I can't relate to; annoyingly this seems to happen quite a lot.