The #life Of A Fan. 90am- the alarm goes off. Bright as a button, first thing i think about. Matchday. Time to get washed up and ready to go. The famous club shirt slips over my head and falls around my body, proud i look in the mirror and wonder to myself what will happen today. Time to go. 10:30am- train pulls into the station platform, couple of hours and ill be at the stadium. The train doors open. Floods of people with the same excited faces as me, scanning the train hardly and empty seat, clusters of men eagerly talking about todays game. Groups of ladies filling up flutes with prosseco for a day on the town, the old romantics sitting staring out the window the mans hand lovingly placed on the womans hand. Finally i find a seat. 10 minute journey and ill be in town. 11:30am- Entering the Old Haunt to soak up the pre-game atmosphere, the riotous but civil boisterousness oozes around the intimidating boozer but its pre game ritual for me. The place is full of characters, years of experienced fans that have travelled the globe to watch their club. Tribal. Unrentless. A marriage almost. The stories they could tell and most certainly have. Time for a drink. 2:10pm- almost like kids after the school bell has went for hometime, one by one inebriated men leave the pub for the subway, fitting in as many cigarettes as they can before they hit the subway station,5 minute walk away. 2:15pm- queuing. The colours are vast and proud. The riotous bunch are getting louder on account of the alcohol mixing with excitement. More queuing. Here we go the subway train doors open a rush to get on like a tin of sardines we're crammed in. The songs start, the jumping starts, 15 minutes of it.. 2:30pm- destination arrived. More queuing. A hightened sense of excitement almost europhic, like the sea,waves of people make their way up to the stadium, passing shops, intensely beautiful smelling snack bars with not the same tasting food, the same man thats been there for 17 years selling fanzines. Almost there. More queuing. 2:50pm- Turnstile. The woman takes my ticket. Im in. 36 steps and im in my seat. The view is spectactular the songs begin, the atmosphere bulding up, flags flying and the teams come running out. 30pm- kick off. The whistle goes.. Or wait.. Is it... Groggily i open my eyes my alarm goes off, i read the time 90am.. It was a dream, the reality is yet to happen. The #life of a fan.

Getting Home Half 4. Best part of the day. Hometime. The rush starts, the starting blocks are full, everyones got their number, the gun goes off , it begins. why are people such a rush to get anywhere, a little bit of patience and everyone gets to their chosen place of comfort. Less accidents. Less rushing. #life isnt a race..

Reality "The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are. You trade in your reality for a role. You trade in your sense for an act. You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask. There can't be any large-scale revolution until there's a personal revolution, on an individual level. It's got to happen inside first." Jim Morrison

The Circus. The circus.