I've gotten off the bus as it had reached the terminus. I'm standing here weary and confused at which bus I'm supposed to take and when. Should I hang around the terminal with a coffee in hand and a cigarette dangling in the other? Or fight for a seat?
I'm standing in a hall of mirrors, so crowded here with my infinate doppelgangers. Someone, perhaps the true me, is screaming, screaming, infinately screaming. Still the mirrors do not shatter.
But I am at the terminal breathing in acrid exhaust and stale tobacco smoke. Just standing. Just tired. Just bewildered at the buses, the destinations and estimated arrivals. How long do I have to stand here?
I often wish I could jump in a car and drive to destination unknown.
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2 comments:
I thought I saw you there, Holl. Went to say hello but a new language was busy forming in my mouth and all I could do was wave...
Sometimes I feel that if I am stuck in a situation for so long, I really do wish to get out and run to anywhere else...and I don't care if the new place is worse than the current one.
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