Sometimes, I grab for my notebook as soon as I can and try to get down in words the thoughts that had been floating out of my skull as fast as I can. The trouble with this is that its really difficult to remember every single thought and, as is the case now, where it came from.
Just now, I sat with a pen poised, ready to write, and in so doing, let myself relive the 5 minutes previously, what I was doing, how I felt, and what and why I thought what I thought. I can’t remember how exactly I started thinking. I recall locking the front door, putting the keys in my jacket pocket, realize it was actually warm again, and therefore did not need the winter jacket. I remember the afghan neighbours across the road stopping to watch me walk past, pulling out my hair from under my hood, walking to the corner where two highschool girls were laughing insanely, and then pulling out my sunglasses and closing my eyes facing the sun.
Was it here where I zoned into Lalaland, I don’t know. It all feels like one of those dreams that happen and you awake only to recalls bits and pieces, but in bad print.
But what I do recall vividly is that feeling of the sunshine on my face. On this subject, I will always sound repetitive, unapologetically so. And, the thought that occurred to me was the freedom of being able to enjoy it.
- which now brings me back to what started this train of thoughts. Being on the late side, I was in a bit of a rush and thought how nicely convenient it would be to just step out of my house and have a bus stop perhaps across the road, rather than having to walk to roundabout walk I had to do twice every day between home to bus. That was what I was thinking at the moment I was pulling out my sunglasses. The moment I felt the sun on my face however, chanced my mind. That 4.39 minute walk (scientifically concluded based on the findings that the walk was the exact same length as Gal Sun), was the means behind pretty much all of the blogeristic musings thus far written. As to what comes next; what I’d thought, or rather, felt, was that this 4.39 minute walk was a luxury in a busy day. It was my chance to simply ‘be’ – to feel, and appreciate: the sunshine, the sky, the wind, the rain, the moon, the stars. And I thought, or rather felt, pity for those who live continuously from door to car door and back. I considered once more, how non-committing taking the bus wherever I wanted to go was without having to worry about a steering wheel, the stop signs, stoplights, or the road ahead. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.
This takes me to another query of mine: whether a person prefers being a driver or a passenger, and its correlation to personality type.
WE INTERRUPT THIS PROGRAM FOR BREAKING NEWS.
The (former) Library Security Guard has entered the bus. I repeat-
WE NOW PAUSE WAITING FOR MY HEART TO START BEATING AGAIN
Whowhatwherewhenwhyhowwhowhatthehell. Yo. I don’t KNOW him.
I mean, he doesn’t know ME. I mean, HEH I haven’t seen him in MONTHS. Ok scarap that, I saw him for 2 seconds while I was in the process of writing a pm to someone else. I remember now. And now, and now, here I am writing about.. something, and here is this this..PERSON.
Stop!
What is this.
He’s
a
crush.
Not even that.
Mental slap to self. Left hook. Right left right. Brrr.
What is it with tall guys?!?!?! I don’t understand this…
No he WAS a crush. No, just eye-candy. Not even that. Ahaan! Anyways he was nobody. I was nobody. We were nobodies in a nobody sort of nobody way… who just happened to see each other everyday (EVERYDAY) for a few months. Thassall.
Anyways. Who cares.
At least I know he takes the bus. (he takes the BUS??!!)
And where he gets on. And where he gets off. *stalker alert*
This is just odd. How we keep running into each other. Even now.
Hmmm.
Bolna painda ae puttar, bolna painda ae. (LOL)
