I am trying to get used to taking pictures again on the Tube, but it's really hard trying to remain inconspicuous when the camera in your hands is bigger than your whole face. The picture isn't that great to be honest, though I guess it'll just take a bit more time and practice – I am shooting in full manual for some obscure reason, trying to get a feel for working out exact exposures until I feel comfortable with it all. Shooting in this mode besides Aperture Priority means I'm way out of my comfort zone. For once, this is a picture that actually has a bit of background to it. I have to get it off my chest, and though it's not technically the best ones I have ever taken (I think it's a really bad photograph to be quite honest with you), I don't know why it has struck a nerve with me. When you work eight hours a day for London Underground, five to nine days straight, you just get sick of the people and the environment sometimes. It grates on you a lot sometimes. Don't get me wrong – I love my job and sometimes it really does have it's rewards, especially when members of the public are appreciative of your existence, but other times, you just hate it and get so tired. This partly explains why my tendency to obsess and photograph on the Tube has become somewhat tame – it is no longer an obsession. When it comes to the commute, I stopped paying attention a long time ago. I switch off. I try to block it out – click my heels – and repeat in my head, "There's no place like home." This afternoon's journey home from Covent Garden however was different. For starters, the train caught me off guard lurching out of Covent Garden, causing me to lose my footing as I was approaching a seat, and rather than grab a handrail, I wrapped myself around my camera to shield it from any oncoming bump or knock, resulting in my basically falling over some woman who was already sat down. Thankfully, she was aware enough to drop her book in time to catch me and push me back onto my feet. I apologised profusely. She said not to worry, and in fact, was really nice about the whole thing. I sank into the seat next to her, somewhat embarrassed about the whole thing and paranoid that everybody was still watching, so I looked straight ahead. And there he was. It was his t-shirt that seemed to do it for me – it drew me in – two comic-book eyes staring right back at me. Then his red star badge glistened under the carriage's strip lights, twinkling in my eyes. He had good taste – he was reading some sort of book on etymology. No – I didn't spontaneously fall in love with him. You know how I mentioned the fact I switched off on the Tube a long time ago? Well – this guy was the fresh 9V battery that I needed to complete the circuit for me. I was curious. Really curious. Interested. Intrigued. Any other words of relevance beginning with the letter 'I'. Inspired. Occasionally, he would peer up from his book rather nervously, look from side to side, look straight at me, straight through me, and then returned to his book. He seemed rather withdrawn – arms tucked in against the armrests. I noticed he had hearing aids for both ears, and when I snapped him at that moment as he was turning the page, he did not register the sound of me releasing the shutter. I felt bad about this. I felt like for that moment, I'd just captured his awkward and withdrawn soul. He did not seem to notice me fiddling about with my camera afterwards, even though I could see that other people were watching me somewhat suspiciously. I didn't feel comfortable with taking another, better, shot. This would have to do. On his left arm, he had a black inked tattoo of some sort of skeletal structure. Very simple, but very dark and quite seemingly newly applied and healed up – ready to wear. On his right arm he had a bandage, from just below his wrist to just above the elbow. I followed the bandage up his right arm. There was a long, deep scar that rested just above the bandage. Scanning around it, I noticed fainter scars at all angles around his arm. We were pulling away from Gloucester Road by this point when he looked up again, quickly glancing at the station name as we disappeared into the tunnel. He hurriedly closed his book and sat it on his lap when he reached down for his rucksack at his feet, his left arm almost fully extended as he picked his bag up. He was covered in many frighteningly deep scars. For a few seconds, my eyes rested on his arms and I tell you now that it was almost impossible to count how many scars there were. Silvery lines that shone dull under this tungsten lighting. We were just pulling into Earl's Court by this point – I tried to look away – I looked over to a woman sat two seats from him, and she was looking at him in sheer disgust. But it's hard for me to describe the look on my face and what I was feeling at the time. I must've felt sad or sorry for him, but I think it made me take a good look at myself – he very much rem

Please take a long hard look through your textbook 'Cause I'm history When I strap my helmet on I'll be long gone 'Cause I've been dying to leave Yeah, I'll ride the range and hide All my loose change in my bedroom 'Cause riding a dirt bike down A turnpike always takes its toll on me I've had just about enough of quote "Diamonds in the rough" Because my backbone is paper thin Get me out of this cavern or I'll cave in If the bombs go off, the sun will still be shining Because we've heard it said that Every mushroom cloud has a silver lining Though I'm always undermining too deep to know Swallow a drop of gravel and blacktop 'Cause the road tastes like wintergreen The wind and the rain smell of oil and octane Mixed with stale gasoline I'll soak up the sound, try to sleep on the wet ground I'll get ten minutes give or take 'Cause I just don't foresee myself getting drowsy When cold integrity keeps me wide awake Get me out of this cavern or I'll cave in Get me out of this cavern or I'll cave in I'll keep my helmet on just in case my head caves in 'Cause if my thoughts collapse or my framework snaps It'll make a mess like you wouldn't believe Tie my handlebars to the stars so I stay on track And if my intentions stray I'll wrench them away Then I'll take my leave and I won't even look back I won't even look backThe wind and the rain smell of oil and octane Mixed with stale gasoline I'll soak up the sound, try to sleep on the wet ground I'll get ten minutes give or take 'Cause I just don't foresee myself getting drowsy When cold integrity keeps me wide awake Get me out of this cavern or I'll cave in Get me out of this cavern or I'll cave in I'll keep my helmet on just in case my head caves in 'Cause if my thoughts collapse or my framework snaps It'll make a mess like you wouldn't believe Tie my handlebars to the stars so I stay on track And if my intentions stray I'll wrench them away Then I'll take my leave and I won't even look back I won't even look back