by EMILIAN WOJNOWSKI
M by Alexander Mueller | Flickr
Life is like traveling by bus. We get on and off it at different stops—sometimes at those we don't want to, not necessarily due to absent-mindedness—and the further we go, the more we pay. Sometimes we get stuck in traffic jams, join wrong passengers, or lose tickets. Or the bus does not come.
The above thinking occurred to me at… a bus stop. Thoughts then are mosquitoes, and heads—if free of problems, social media, and music—are camping lanterns.
It was windy, so I sat under a shelter. I was simply waiting, with my hands in my pockets and my head leaned on a rolled-up viscose scarf.
Escape From Spiderhead
George Saunders / The New Yorker
Behind the Hand - Keoni Cabral- Flickr
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