Yesterday has creeped me out. I spent the morning on Broadway market trying to pick up a nice Cowboy related present for Stokey's favourite Cowboy and ran into some friends on the Fields. We were slowly turning into lobsters with ice cream mustaches when two rival gangs started shooting at each other right by us. It's funny what happens in situations like that, some people instinctively hit the ground where most just stood like marble statues, desperately trying to convince themselves that no one would be fucking stupid enough to shoot blindly into a field completely packed with families and kids at 3.30pm. Well yeah, they were, and some poor dude having a picnic with his friends got shot. I've never seen someone with a bleeding bullet hole in their back before, but I wont be forgetting that in a hurry. I can't stop stalking the internet to see if he is ok... please be ok, please be ok, please be ok.
I think most people in London Fields yesterday will have spent their evening wondering what the hell we're all living down here for. I swung by a 3rd Birthday party on my way home to eat tiny triangular cheese sandwiches and try to counterbalance what I'd just seen by watching miniature people jump about a bouncy castle, totally oblivious of the shitty country that lies beyond the balloons and bunting in their garden. I'm never bringing up my kids in London.