Running from one falling star to another
I love bank holiday weekends when I’m not going anywhere, and just chilling in London. I slept for 12 hours on saturday, only waking up at noon on Sunday. I never have that luxury on a normal 2-day weekend because I’m always trying to cram all of my life into a mere 48-hours, always “running from one falling star to another”, in the words of the immortal Jack Kerouac.