#9 Dee Why to Downtown Bus Trips – A Diary of Stuff that Popped into My Head One Week.

Going – Wednesday, 7.31a.m., 14 December 2011

I’ve never caught the E83 bus before. I just jumped on and hoped that it was an express. Yes, I could have asked the bus driver but I didn’t care enough. I knew I’d get downtown and if a bit later than usual, so what.

Most of the people on this bus seem to be women. There are some men but they’re definitely a minority this morning. This bus this morning doesn’t seem to have a soul. The driver looks like he’s an empty shell handling a steering wheel. All the women and the few men look like empty shells.

The weekend has been and gone and the bus floor doesn’t look like it’s been swept and mopped. Do they even mop bus floors? Maybe she’s been swept, it’s not too bad. I guess they vacuum bus floors rather than sweep. I did suggest we start the week clean and fresh with a swept and mopped floor. Now that they haven’t done that the bus and everyone on her feels like an empty shell. Do you see why I made that suggestion in the first place?

Good morning agapanthus! The bus has stopped in traffic, I bring my head up from writing in my Philadelphia-purchased journal to peer out the window, and I see a happy patch of agapanthus in the yard of an elevated house. Their bluey purple happiness fills the empty shells. Empty shells? Is it only me that am an empty shell this morning? Maybe. People today just seem to be empty shells.

There’s potential music in this bus. The hanging handles that are spaced out, two rows of them, from one end of the bus to the other are perfect triangular shapes. They remind me of a music class in primary school when I was introduced to percussion instruments for the first time ever. I remember picking up the perfect, solid metal triangle then gently hitting it with the little wand. A beautiful chiming sound began. A very pleasant vibration struck my core. The vibration continued resonating as if I’d started something wonderful that would never end. All this was natural to me. All this was tangible. And it was fun.

Would everyone please stand up and tap the triangle dangling above you. It’ll sound beautiful and you’ll feel much better for doing so.

Having a four day weekend was heaven. I’ve had Monday and Tuesday off work. So, today’s the last day I write these bus trip shorts – a total of five days just like I promised myself. Will I be back with my Philly journal and willing pen? We’ll see.

I’ve just passed two commuter packed buses. The people locked inside looked like cows on their way to the abattoir to become succulent cuts of beef. They won’t be back.