Transit Bliss

The basement is for computer screen nights. My room is just storage for my clothes and an unfamiliar scene. Outside is for tokes, tanning, and jokes. And everywhere else in between has some sort of other purpose that keeps me up and about. But the good ol' TTC is where I somehow find my sanity. Although usually packed with summer sweat stained riders, perhaps a grumpy bus driver, one or two loud mouths, some funny scent, and one oddball...the TTC has become my inner peace.

Its on the bus where I finally find the perfect light to read my book, I can jot down notes without minding the wandering eye. The ride doesn't always need an Ipod to be complete, the sounds that gather and vary from place to place make an effortless tune of interest. But when I do have my Ipod, songs just sound better somehow. I'm happy when I hop onto the bus knowing that I'm headed towards somewhere, anywhere. I've taken a liking to taking the longer routes, just as long as I have a red cushioned seat, and it means that I'm on for longer. I get to people watch without feeling guilty. And for some reason, outside looks better through a glass.