Skip to main content

Bus driver? Oh, nevermind.

I do not like riding the bus all that much. Especially when the sun starts to go down. It happens just like in the movies. The sun light stops touching the ground and all of the ghouls start coming out of the woodwork. It makes me uncomfortable. But I ride the bus occasionally, there is nothing wrong with it. It is convenient.

I took my seat on the bus and stared out the window. One of the things I enjoy about life is staring out the windows of vehicles. You watch the world go by. All of the people and buildings and lives turn into a big motion blur. All of those people walking down the sidewalk have their own story, a story you'll never get to hear. I'll bet they've got good stories. Some of them, anyway.

We passed an ambulance. The crew was loading someone into the back, lights flashing. I'll be doing that in a couple of weeks, I thought to myself. I looked around the bus. Nobody looked at or said anything to anybody else. That's okay, I thought. For some reason it felt nice. Being on the bus. Everybody going somewhere. Everybody going home, having a good time. I went back to looking out the window. A man was crossing the street, a bag on his shoulder and a drink in his hand. I watched him as we passed his crosswalk. The car driving alongside us cut a hard right and ran straight into the man. His drink went flying into the air and he rolled off the hood.

And the bus kept going.

It was like watching a television. Or going to the zoo. The pane of glass in front of me tried to convince me that I was in the real world and everything outside was fake. I was so detached from the experience. I shrugged it off. I stared out the window. The bus kept going and so did I.

It didn't hit me until later. I saw a guy get hit by a car. I don't think anybody else on the bus did. He has to be okay, though. The car wasn't going too fast. Oh well. The whole thing makes you think about how mortal we are. We could be walking across the street, soda in hand, walking home one moment and the next moment we could be dead. Very dead. That's okay. Who has time to think about that anyway.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Pseudo-science (like psych).

I consider myself a man of science. I try to approach problems and deal with them logically, using observations previously recorded to handle new problems. So of course my interest was piqued when someone I knew posited that men are needier and more complicated than women. An interesting theory. But to properly examine it, one must understand the concept of sexual selection and its two aspects: male competition and female choice. Which brings us to point one: men are needier [in relationships] than women. This is true. In a natural/primal setting, the males are generally love-'em-leave-'em kinds of guys. Their main objective is to reproduce as much as they can. Humans, in their infinite wisdom, have decreased the emphasis on this to the point where it has become a footnote in male purpose. Civilization dictates that, instead of finding a partner for the sole purpose of reproduction, males find females for life companionship. With the effective removal of their natur...

Just the stirring in my soul.

I, really, kind of don't want to be here anymore. Not in the sense that I am dissatisfied with my life or my present situation--which isn't to say that I'm not , because I am in a way--but in the sense that I am dissatisfied with the lack of things happening. I keep looking around. Out the window of my room. Out the window of my car. Out the window of the living room. I want to be on the other side of that glass. That's where the action is. I need, desperately, an adventure. I need to go somewhere. See something. Anywhere, anything. I don't care where or what as long as it's happening. I want to travel so badly. Grab my backpack and my camera and walk away. I'd settle for going to the same state park I've been to a hundred times over. It's this routine I'm stuck in. Seeing the same shit every day, going through the same motions. I need to change it up, break things. I need some vitality--being cooped up is killing me. What I re...

No, Holmes, no!

All I ever think about these days is how much I have to/want to study. I hope that's not how I have a good time, now. Would I rather go hang out with peeps or would I rather sit in and study? It is a difficult question to answer. Just a couple more days and then I can focus all my energy on the next greatest idea I've ever had: iconic detectives and sharks.