Tuesday, May 16, 2006
I boarded a bus on a wet Monday evening. 8:57 pm. By the time I finally got a seat and made myself comfortable, the rain had stopped. The streets were still wet as puddles of rainwater filled the potholes, reflecting back the lights of the mall. I shifted a little closer to the window as a lady sat beside me. The bus is not yet full. Conductor's still calling for passengers. Nothing to do but to wait. I decided to listen to my mp3 player as more passengers boarded the bus. On a Monday, I am waiting and by Tuesday, I am fading into your arms so I can breathe. Nothing to do but to wait.

The bus, finally filled with passengers - some already standing at the isle, went in motion. I smiled and waved a little goodbye. People inside the bus gradually shifted, trying to get a quick shut-eye. I watched how they grabbed the railings, holding on to support while managing to have a nap. Noticing some sleeping soundly as though the motion of the bus rocked them to deep slumber. Still my portable player roared. Oh, it seems like I can finally rest my head on something real, I love the way that feels. It's the only thing that is keeping me awake.

I turned my attention to the window. Lights from the lamposts and incoming cars keeps playing on the wet road. Zooming in and out of watchful eyes. The bus went flying by buildings, houses, stores, people. Oh, it's as if you know me better than I ever knew myself. I love how you can tell. My player's on repeat on a particular song. I love how you can tell.

One hour. I travelled one hour. Our streets were still wet when I arrived. A sign that the rains had reached my home. The moon was out. The stars were hiding behind the clouds. The house was still. Everyone's asleep. Silence. I turned-up the volume of my player as the song was ending. I love how you can tell the pieces of me.

Just an hour ago, every piece of me was together.
Just an hour ago, I was whole.

posted by Johnjan @ 2:10 PM  
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