although, tiresome and long i actually really enjoy bus journeys; the constant bustle of work colleges but at the same time, the silence. it’s calming. maybe it’s because i’m young, open to “adventure” and new opportunities whereas the workers are too submersed in their own journeys to notice the one that we all share. i must admit that at times i hate the bus journeys early in the morning after rolling out of bed, but i can still appreciate it’s voyage through the unusual beauty of the landscape, however industrialized it has become.
the droning, repetition of the same journey everyday is quite frankly boring. the same people. the same driver. the same places. everyone leaving a gap between seats as to not catch the deadly disease of socialising. *gasp* that’s quite possibly the worse thing that could happen to you, i’m sorry for your loss. sitting next to a stranger? when there’s other seats available? are you crazy?! it’s almost become a taboo.
however boring and repetitive; you start to notice more things, smaller details. things you would’ve never noticed beforehand. a lady with her dog walks past the bus at 7.23 every morning, she’s not there? what’s changed? is she okay? you start to become unintentionally involved in other peoples lives, without them ever knowing. i wonder if i’m part of someone else’s morning routine. you start to enjoy the alone time, appreciating the people, the driver, the places. too much time is focused on point A or point B, the beginning or the ending, but what about the time in between? the journey to reach point B, for in a book an ending means nothing without a beginning, but more importantly the middle.