ok comuter

its back to school, i wake up on time everyday to catch the bus to work

i practically live in an air-cond environment, most of the time at work and back at the service apartment i live in.

so getting out of the house is like coming back from australia, the humidity gets to you, and it's only the bloody morning, when the suns not even at its prime.

i get the daily paper so i dun get bored waiting for the bus to come, one of those big spreads, 80 sing cents for so little articles, but it beats staring at the other horde of people wishing they hadnt woken up so early.

Then at a distance, this orangy-white block on wheels is waiting at the traffic lights just before my stop, im waiting for the 159 but i cant make out the three digits just yet, but im off my seat to get in line and i've finished the main page of the paper anyway.

I'm finally going to be free from this prison of waiting, but no, its the 109, how deceptive, my sentence is lengthened.

I eventually catch the 159 and cram in like a sardine in a can, waiting for a seat, but not desperate for one, since the leg room were designed for midgets anyway, i'm happy standing holding a cold steel pole looking at the bell af it were a button to send some nuclear missile into space, just feeling trigger happy, but there's probably 45 minutes left to go even though its only like a 10 min car ride.

then on the 20th min of the ride, the bus goes empty because it stops at the univeristy, i have a buffet spread of seats to choose from and i happily sit my ass on two seats, spreading my legs staring outside the window, giving the evil eye to all those freakin students, wishing they OD'd on something.

by this time im done with the paper, and i couldnt be bothered to read the classifieds which turns out to be the biggest section. so i decide to dream about my car, my shitty little car back home.

we've been seing each other for more then five years, we've done so much together, been to millions of places, and yes we've had our share of spoils, countless trips to the mechanics and several bumps and dents and the occasional crash.

my car's getting older, faster then me, like a dog would, i wouldnt trade it for the world, but i'm probably gonna witness its destruction.

ding-dong
my stops here, i get to work

fast-forward to the weekends

if im lucky enough to be done in the city before its too late, i can still catch the last few trains home, its usually packed heading to the suburbs, so i continue my stand, offering my sacrifice to god so that children in poor countries have a better life.

i still have to take another bus back, but this time its late, n theres probably only 3 people who get on with me, the lights are dim, i sit right at the back, dead center, like a counterweight to the 2 ton vehicle.

i get to see all the flats lit up, n yes they still look the same, just like the mornings.

last nite i took the wrong/right bus because i didnt wanna walk 400m to the proper bus stop.

right = because it still stopped at my apartment

wrong= because it was the reverse loop, so i had to see everyone get on and off the bus for half and hour before i got home.

no mp3 player, no newspaper, i just played music and movies in my head........new radicals came to mind..........weird.....u got the music in you..............you know this world will pull through.....dont give up.........u got a reason to live........you only get what you give........

man he sounds like every other preacher out there.

how do they do it

copywriters, journalist, authors


great words at their fingertips, does it come easily after thousands and thousands of phrases, cliches, over and over again.

those who write probably have to drown themselves in lots of alcohol or drugs just to find a synonym that works.

whats worse is when you type a piece of crap that other people actually think is witty or funny, but you know u probably copied it from some cheap ass ad in a country u visited some time ago.

how many terminologies can u use up before u actually go terminal?

paraphrase like daylight robbery,

or just block and paste with technology.

when ya were young you thought ya were so damn creative an original

then ya grew up and noticed every original thought u had, was replicated a million times and was probably written by the greeks.

ya wish ya never cared, ya wish ya never needed to depend on that skill.

but ya know in the back of ur mind, ya'd better get whatever small piece of freedom ya can scrap in this freakin closed minded, authoritarian world that we live in.

so yabadabadadoodideedee, better to jargon than to sell out on your desires.

The golden city

Not often do u see a golden display from the heavens complementing the protruding skyscrapers.

Magic hour, puffy clouds, it's turning orange to red.

An unknown feeling being completely alone, surrounded by many.

Too be silent amongst a frenzy.

Nowhere to hide, to run freely.

Only in the mind u can travel away, to a place, a time that fills you.

If hurt will not change you, if pain is not without you.

You carry on, you morph into what matters, and everyone finds their own center.

Remember the sounds, the warmth, the joy. Thou shall carry with you everywhere.