It’s almost every single day I take the bus to get home, then suddenly become my seldom skipped tradition. And being on this rectangle machine, I see everything I could solely see here. It’s lessons that evolve as one of everything I mean: unintendedly gripped from where I sit or stand. Yes, I screen the entire corner: consider the validity that I am not the center of this universe or the only party who owns crises.
People are struggling and working with difficulties. They’re exhausted as I look at their wet foreheads and tiring faces. They carry bags, some of them hold children, and the rest of the others attempt to create enjoyment for their relatives who desire to bypass the metropolis for the first time. I also notice some people who still concentrate on their business, nonstop looking at their phones, sleeping to kill time or just staring out the window to relish the long journeys.
Then I begin to feel grateful to witness these people, who are mere strangers to me: these various new faces and stories behind what is uncovered. I thank God that I still bear the strength to walk and reach the bus station, to preserve my courage to offer my seat to the elders, to keep my patience to stand, and to hold back my negative sentiments inside. With or without my recognition, these people deliver non-verbalized memos through what they do and how they socialize, which somehow always causes me to think that everything I see saves reasons to be glimpsed…
… and it’s never such a coincidence.
I try to study people: their behavior and the direct impacts stay becoming the simplest things I learn every day. And I am grateful for everything I’ve learned.
