Thursday, July 19, 2007
People sitting on stoops in front of houses where all the windows are broken
Some people sit inside of houses with no broken windows and I realize that
Freedom comes in all kinds of clever disguises
I keep my eyes open every second of the day
A man walks in the middle of the street, unaware that the bus follows him like a rabid dog
Another man gets onto the bus, talking loudly to everyone. The people stare at him like he is an alien
Some of them shake their heads. I turn down my Ipod so that I can hear what he is saying
I try to make eye contact but he will not look at me
His hair blows in the wind from the open window
Sometimes when I take the bus I close my eyes because I don't want to see anything.
Sometimes I look down at a book that I can't concentrate on, or focus on the music I am listening to.
But most of the time the bus is my muse.
A lot of my questions about life are answered on the bus, and when I have no questions sometimes I sit by a window, open it, and feel the wind on my face, pretending that I am somewhere else.
Sometimes I pretend that I am traveling through time.
I love the bus.