back to the shuttle bus, double-decker. my seat was awkward between two layers. the have-knots and the knot-haves. spiral. i kept my head balanced with site sees like mind drones, willing to cut switch run. and then there was all the dazzle, the side tracking glimmer of the life that appealed to my whimsy. the window ultimately sucks like cups all memory of this ride. watching all you fuckers pass by. cornfields and exit ramps one by one.
and as quick as the choo-choo blue, i was back on still canvas from said film strip. this is what i can't recall of the before and in between. i mean the boxcar and the spot where the presumable x lies in wait. see, solace hides deserving souls searching wildly for reception. results in man e. faces. only three but two too man e.
back to the bus stop, i caught my name on poster board above all the grabbing heads. to my total "fuck, i saw this coming" he brought a black permanent marker down from his face and scribbled me out (and bubble letters are so cute). hindsight exhales relief for potential in dumbingdown, default remedy.
The depot is filled to the brim; they mass all around me now. smug cause even though they've all got off at the wrong stop - all their welcome wagons got the memo. so until when i'm just mingling, not really concerned with names and trying not to make eye contact with the conductor. he's insisting this trip is round.
(this is the first -december 2008- blog post i ever did write and surely no one has ever read.)