Random Thoughts From A Bus Ride

(Because I've been taking rather long commutes these days, and because I have nothing else to do during each bus ride but scrawl random and not-so-random thoughts that surface.)

1
In Welly, whenever I saw an ascending airplane (from the nearby airport), I'd imagine myself on it, imagine that I was homeward-bound; and I always knew, exactly, what awaited me at the end of my ten-hour flight.

Now that I'm back home, I still occasionally see those commercial aircrafts gaining altitude. I'll still always imagine myself on those flights. The only difference now is that, having returned home, there isn't anywhere else I can return home to - what will await me at the end of those flights is the anticipation of something, somewhere, entirely unfamiliar.

This, perhaps, is why my imaginings here float me with hope ... instead of grounding me with dread like those in Welly.



2
I try not to look too hard - or too long - whenever the bus passes by a secondary school, especially at that time of the day where school has officially ended.

If my eyes should linger too long on such after-school scenes, I would taste the bittersweet of nostalgia ... and something more faint - but no less distinct - that I still can't identify.

I don't want to find out that mildly unpleasant yet not completely unpalatable taste at the back of my mouth is, in fact, grief.