Terry Gillian's foray into the most cursed movie in history led to its demise soon after it began. Firing ADs, accidents, a flood and a lead actor crippled within weeks. It was always known that it might fail, and it did.
As many things do.
Being lost in La Mancha is not unprecetended. Many before have tread paths to nowhere. Seen a sudden drop or cliff and stepped back before it was too late.
Yet here, I am at the will of no one but myself. Sure, a little bit of expectation, but mainly resting comfortably on my shoulders.
What that doesn't take away is the isolation of this city. For without people, it's a place that's as worldly as it is isolating.
People seem to ache for the abode that keeps them comfortable, but also shielded from the chaos.
London is a shitty city. A metropolis so full of itself that it seems to have forgotten that the world is still turning around it.
Brexit confounds even the most honest of neighbours. What they thought was a comfortable seat was actually just a joy ride for some for a time. Not actually understanding it's worth in the structure of a new world.
You gave us globalisation. We embraced it for all its problems. We looked forward to resolving them. And then you took it away.
As though the elderly had the vote to make it so decades ago, and still greedily held onto its record to take it away.
You dirty conservatives. You dirty old has beens. Death will not come soon enough for a world you wanted to control. Did control. And ruined it for everyone.
This isn't a modern city. It's a wasteland of memories, ambition and a flakey soul that cherishes a time that has long gone by.
And yet, as always.....Keep Clam and Carry On. In a decade, everything will be back to normal.