Some days just get the better of you. They make you take stock of life, or maybe I was just thinking too much about things better left alone. But this always happens to me on the bus, the distractions melt away and I’m left with my own thoughts. Never a great idea. I’ve often thought the 26 bus itself could be the root of my problems, but I can’t blame a bus for my own damaged psyche.
Besides, we all feel it, on the bad days, you feel yourself dying just a little bit, trouble at work, trouble at home. It’s the rat race, the 9 to 5, the hard slog. It’s the never feeling like you are going anywhere on this treadmill of life.
And in the end we all die. It’s a fact, that creeps its way into our minds often, because we are mortal.
We are all born to die. A little more depressing but still true. We struggle and flop around like a fish out of water, gasping for something we can’t see.
And then, afterlife? Nothing? Have faith my ass! We are all dead as dog meat already.
This roller-coaster of thoughts was racing, gaining speed, charging through my mind, crashing down the barriers of my sanity, ready to bring the whole place crashing down.
That’s when I turn to the person next to me and scream,
“We’re all going to die!”
I don’t even know why I said it, it just exploded out of me like a soda can left in a hot car.
It was such an intimate moment with a perfect stranger, sharing a fragment of the inner workings of my mind, I felt immediate relief.
Without a word this poor gentleman stands and moves to the other side of the bus.
I can’t blame him, I wouldn’t want crazy on me either.
This all happened last week. Nobody sits next to me anymore. To be honest, had I known that this is all it took for extra leg room, I would have had my outburst years ago.