This Boy.

The other day I was in the car – driving on some road to get to some place – listening to 104.1 when “put your hands up for Detroit” came on. I was staring out the window thinking about how stressed I am and how I couldn’t wait for exams to be over. 5 seconds into my self absorbed thoughts the car passed a pole, covered in flowers, with a cross underneath bearing the name “Joey.”

Everything I had been thinking of disappeared, I looked at mum but she hadn’t even seen the cross, or at least showed no signs of recognition. I stopped thinking about me – and, in my own way, wished that Joey would now have an easier life, and begged that his or her family be helped through this time. I don’t know why. It’s not exactly like me to pray – having no defined beliefs. I guess I just saw this perfectly positioned cross with the letters in so perfectly aligned and the flowers so perfectly alive and wondered how everything could be so perfect. It reminded me of my granddad. 

This morning, too tired to bother caring about the 2 ½ hour paper I would be doing in less than an hour, I sat on the bus, listening to my ipod, and stared aimlessly out the window. I kept the one song on repeat the entire 30 minute trip.I began to watch the people hurrying through the station; students, business people, teachers. Each and every single person ignorant to whoever passed. In the 2-3 minutes the bus was stopped I saw at least 10 people run into another person – without acknowledgment or even a sorry.

Imagine that every single person is somehow, in the tiniest way, similar to you. Yet this person isn’t even good enough to acknowledge.

Still listening to the same song, I have this way of making film clips in my head, their usually simplistic with happy endings, but for the short time there exists a perfect world in my head – where the ending is always happy.