"Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth."
-Henry David Thoreau
I am balls deep in an ocean of tears. The night sky is awesome. The moon has a smile on its face, but the stars are all frowning at me. I think that I might be dreaming.
I awake to the sound of tires sailing on the wet street. The thick glass window deflects the rain into the surrounding L.A. madness. The rain continues to bomb hard and heavy. The wet black asphalt keeps on beneath the bus. Public transit is like a prison cell. The city scenes keep trying to push my thoughts back. But my mind keeps on sailing.
The bus stops on Vanowen and Ranchito. The busdriver opens the door for me, I step out, and I look back at him. The rain on my face is soothing. The siren songs of the city comfort me. The moon stays hidden behind black heavy clouds. I smile at the driver.