I take a bus back home from school some days, especially now with the late days due to band. The ride home's a quasi excruciatingly gargantuan journey. Haha. The ride home takes approximately and hour or so, so I tend to sit on the upper deck on the bus, disregarding the laws of physics and equilibrium. Having the upperdeck mostly to myself and some other random people, I get a good amount of time in solitude, where there is not much distraction, besides the incessistant TV mobile repeats that never stop lagging, or the odd couple or gang making out and being stupid respectively. The ride home gives me good time to contemplate, however I must admit that most of the thoughts are hardly philosphy material. A bus ride home, especially a rather long one gives you that isolated time you need to.. I don't know..think? I'd rather say sleep.
On the bus home, you slip into a different sub-state of reality. I'd go as far to say that all ingeinous plans or diabolical agendas throughout the ages were planned on a ride home. The ride home symbolizes a returning journey. I know the bus route from school to home. As the vehicle traveses the route, one feels subconciously a sense of familarity and there is a concept of "returning home". Which is why waking up from a deep slumber and realize that you're
a) On the wrong bus b) Missed your stop c)Both
gives a unique sense of horror that one can't really replicate elsewhere. Especially at night...ooooooooooooooooooohh. The feeling when you wake up, and you don't recognize your surroundings, when you try to seek solace or sympathy from the other passengers and are greeted with cold, dark stares. You look outside the cold, frosted glass windows and cruel streets and dark roads stare back at you. Unfamilar..
When you wake up, and you realize that your perception of reality, what you recognize, has been snatched from beneath your feet. The feeling of emptiness, possibly panic. You ask the bus driver if you've missed your stop, he looks at you sadly and nods. However the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel is that you can turn back. You can right the wrong. But to do so you have to alight, cross a road and take the same bus back from whence you came.Face your demons.
I missed my stop tonight.
Delivered at 6:09 PM;
KENNETH
Name:Slumber
Born:16th August
FANCIES
Him.K.anglo-chinese.music for the passionate.marvel.gunners.
Orange.debate.
long bus rides armed with an eye and a pod.74.
philosophizing.dystopia.
coffee.Rove.Health.Famary.
Buddies.
writing.1984.
expression.Italian food.
journeys.teh-peng.
stream of consciousness.
witty play on words.musing.
accents.the heartrands.performing.
being a closet connossieur.
a point of view.vigorous
interaction with spherical objects.
irony&pathos.yum.
JS.spirit.a girl that would smile