seethingblue's Diaryland Diary

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bus rider etiquette

if i could sing the blues, i would sing a song of wretched mondays and the souls that drag themselves up and down, one bus stop to the next, my arm hanging over someone's face as i hang on like a gymnast because there are no more seats, my inner ear, i cannot stand on two feet in a moving vehicle and everyone on the bus keeps poisonous looks on their faces because they...well, because they can...i try to look uninterested but kind and fail miserably because i stared at the girl with the harley davidson tank top eating an apple....not because she was unattractive or attractive to me, but because her head was perfectly round and her body was perfectly straight....

and now i want an apple myself, my stomach speaks a strange language

kira, dearie, ich liebe dich

1:13 p.m. - 2001-09-17

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