It used to be that I always enjoyed the ride home. I'd squeeze into a cold seat far int the back of bus and smuggle up with my cd player, turn the volume up and get lost in a tantalizing piano melody.
I wonder when I started to stop enjoying those long bus rides home.
Was it bcos I started to get impatient with my life? Maybe it was the device. Having a spinning cd in the player, with no more than 13 songs that u really loved, meant that u wanted to listen to all of them as you sped down the street.
It was almost romantic in a way.
But it didn't mean you had to be moving. Stuck in those jams on the causeway were probably one of the most calming things in my life, as long as there was still power in the CD player. Going back to Eunos, back in JC, I distinctly remember taking the longer route, so long as it involved one long bus ride, no alighting.
Maybe its bcos its like being your own music video, those sentimental ones where the artist is just sitting there, reminiscing abt a past love, a lost childhood, or promises made, kept or lost. The moving trees, the appearance of a landmark, or the brief glimpse of someone familiar - they all seemed to synchronize with the music.
Perhaps it was the people... when I used to go home, the bus would always be empty, being the last one to leave the classroom does that to you. Boarding the bus, there'd be only several faces, compared to the morning rush of monotony, and endless pushing, and the occasional psycho who yells at ppl to move in.
I miss those empty buses. I miss the days of CD player, where I didnt have to choose from 400 songs in an iPod - bcos a song that is chosen to be played has no fatality. 13 different songs, all TRUE favorites, spinning and selected at random - that probably had more meaning to it than anything of those days past.
No comments:
Post a Comment