That first day of high school invades the nostrils and perforates the mind with senseless spitting memories of navigating through a surging sea of adolescents that sway and list against and with the will of the mob. Perhaps it is that same time of year presently as it was back then, twenty-three years ago that the very air possesses the texture and characteristic of that other instilled moment skewed and warped by those hated hormone excretions. Everything after that one particular day in 1986 has relatively been absent of shock, or in other words acted and reacted upon in due course and no matter how outlandish or ridiculous or excitable some scenario presents itself, it is better not to place so much emotive stake over those languid coals.
-Much like this bus ride, with its many upon many mundane and dreary claims upon time as well as those piqued and preposterous antics of almost indescribable audacity: the blowouts, the unsolicited strip tease, a junkie's exercise into mayhem, ex-cons howling at passing women like a couple of coyotes, the über corpulent smashing those unfortunates against the windows, a bucket jamming itself into the coach's undercarriage on the highway...I could continue, but I will at another time whenever it suit the derisory moment.
In Which A Power Failure Gives Me Pause
2 months ago
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