I have no more roots in the Northern Kent/Southern London lego block part of the world that is Downham. Gone. Zilch. No more will I be called 'faggot' at a bus stop. No more will I see the giant Woolworthes (though this is for a few other reasons) set ablaze. No more will I see the 2 hollow shells of the decaying Green Man and The Tigers Head pubs, the former set a fire by gypsies. No more will I see the Food Hall M&S and actually wonder why it is there.
My parents have left southen London or a suburban life in a part of the world that might still consider me queer, but wouldn't do it with such an instant and determined ideal of violence - they may just set me on fire late at night in one of the many adjoinging fields that back onto the new abode.
There's deer. There's rabbits. There's geese. There's no ethnic minorities. It's certainly going to be a white xmas folks.
And I enter my flat everyday to the same orchestral strains of the same tramp asking for the same pound coin in Brockley.
I'm also off to New York for New Year. I hope I don't come back.