Nowhere is Somewhere, Somehow.

I’ve sort of fallen in love with taking the bus to nowhere. When I feel like I just need to get away for a while I’ll pick a route, grab some headphones, and just go. Sometimes I’ll take the express out to the suburbs so I can treat myself to some Culver’s. Or, I’ll take the train all the way from one end of the cities to the other. No destination in mind, no plan, just me and the other passengers riding quietly. All of us just sit and sway in unison to the motions of the vehicle. Through the stop lights and the endless line of cars passing by. I just sit with my attention focused on the rapidly moving outside world. My eyes catch a glimpse of something that triggers a memory of mine. I smirk to myself, and somehow that memory has activated another memory, then another one, and another. Somehow they all connect and one just gracefully leads into the next and after a while nothing else exists. Before I know it I’m in an area I don’t recognize. My mind continues to wonder deeper and deeper into my own thoughts until I’m no longer present with my fellow passengers. I’ve officially taken my own detour of quiet contemplation. I’m not even in the same realm anymore as we continue to ride on. My mind has officially completely disassociated from the rest of society. Somehow, the music that is pouring into my ears from my headphones is perfectly in sync with my thoughts and emotions. It’s almost euphoric. I’m reminiscing, I’m remembering things I thought I had long forgotten; I’m having, potentially life changing, realizations and without knowing when or how, this mindless ride to nowhere has suddenly turned into a ride to somewhere. In doing so it has become somewhat sacred. I instinctively want to do everything in my power to protect this experience so it can just be for me. When people ask where I’ve been, I’ll lie and say I was running errands, or with a friend because I don’t want them to know about the special journey. I don’t want them asking as to why or where I was going. I don’t want one question leading to more questions. I just want to be, without the responsibility of explanations. Suddenly, a song pops on that doesn’t match the energy anymore. I’ll slowly start to be pulled from my own mind and I’ll begin to browse for a better option. As I come to, I realize I don’t know how long I’ve been riding. I didn’t notice as passengers entered and exited the bus. I hadn’t even notice the sun had gone down until I hear the bus driver’s muffled voice, all the way from the front of the bus, finally, fully snapping me out of my self-induced trance. I look up and see him looking at me waiting for a response. I remove one of my headphones.

“End of the line, kid.”

I look around and notice that I’m alone. Where did everyone go? I grab my backpack and exit. The glass doors slam behind me and I jump. I hear the whir of the engine as it prepares for departure. As it passes I feel the heat radiating from the mufflers. It’s loud for a second then grows quieter as it drives further and further away. I look around and try to find my bearings. I can’t help but feel a little vulnerable, and that makes me nervous. The light and safety of my ‘chariot’ is now leaving me to fend for myself in the dark, unknown, territory I’ve ended up in. I pull out my phone and the next bus I’ll need to take back will be arriving shortly. I stand by the stop on the empty street and wait impatiently, the cool night air blows under my jacket and makes me shiver. I look around and listen, it’s deafeningly silent. The moon illuminates the dark sky and the tops of the trees above, the lone street light flickers rhythmically. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to a point, and my heart starts to pound.

There is a strange beauty in being alone like this. It’s the kind that scares the hell out of you, but you still find yourself yearning for it here and there. I close my eyes and take a deep breath to try and calm my paranoia. I feel defenseless. I very quickly realize I don’t want to be alone anymore. The wait for my new safe haven feels like purgatory. Then, just when I feel like I can’t take it anymore, a bright light illuminates the street and I feel a smile begin to form across my face. With my eyes still closed, I hear the familiar roar of the loud vehicle and the feeling of comfort fills my chest. The brakes squeak as it comes to a halt and I open my eyes when I hear the doors hiss open. I enter the bus and give the driver a nod, greeting her as if she’s an old friend. I make my way to my usual seat in the back left corner, gently place my headphones back in my ears, sit back, and press play.