By Giada Nizzoli
I miss the girl who used to gaze at Battersea Power Station every time she’d take the train from the London suburbs to Waterloo and back, whilst listening to Pink Floyd on her own without feeling lonely.
We look a lot alike, and I still wear her The Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt from time to time, but we’re no longer the same person.
Her love for the birth country of Pink Floyd still felt reciprocated, because it hadn’t been compromised by a political change built against foreign souls like hers, not just yet.
She hadn’t learnt to put herself first to survive in the modern jungle, not just yet.
So, she was caring – clueless, but caring.
And now Battersea Power Station has lost the characteristic look of its brick Wall and that charming, abandoned feel immortalised on the Animals cover.
But, maybe, there’s a universe where it still looks the same, and that political change never happened, and the girl who used to gaze at Battersea Power Station still exists, is still caring, and still feels welcome in the birth country of Pink Floyd.
And, maybe, their music plays in the background
whenever she boards that same train.
Giada Nizzoli is a freelance writer and poet based in Chester. Her work has appeared in The London Magazine and The Pangolin Review. She published her debut poetry collection (Will-o’-the-Wisps) in 2020. Follow her on instagram @giada_writes