Friday Thoughts;
I sipped through the straw and distractedly nibbled at the ball of tapioca, staring out to the desolate dark silhouette of the city against the pale sky... Watching the shadow of the carriage glide against the concrete, the vibration rattling my bones, I closed my eyes. I've never really liked these things, but I always end up buying them, they make me feel like an anime character... (Yes, despite popular opinion, I am in fact twenty years of age, not a thirteen-year-old girl.) Though I feel like even more of a pretentious hipster with my tortoise shell glasses and sip cup of fluorescent coloured bubble tea, the colourful orbs bobbing around at the bottom of the cup like tadpoles. It's like having come sort of little accessory to hold; Hipster Ken Doll.
Muffled chatter buzzes in the background as I turn my headphones up louder. Radiohead. Again, feeling super hipster. Urgh. I pull my beanie over my eyes, shrinking back against the seat, trying to slip away, forget the fact I am in a grimy, crowded train. Commuting from the city can be a drag at times. First world problems. The fact I am too tired to read saddens me. I tried to, but ended up reading the same sentence about ten times without a single bit sinking in, the words swimming before my eyes, scuttling around like disgruntled beetles. Serves me right for only reading philosophy and poetry. Oh, what I'd give for a light novel... Pooh Bear maybe.... Yes, oh the joys of A. A. Milne. Perhaps I am turning into a pretentious prat after all... I groan at this realisation and press my cheek against the window, opening my eyes and zoning out on the milky sky, watching the patterns of the soft cloud dance. There aren't many trees around here, mainly concrete, graffiti, rubbish and that rather unsettling stench of crushed hopes and dreams, a mixture of wet paint, cigarette smoke, pollution fumes and greasy fast food places. It's sad a place so pretty could have such sinister, dark outskirts... Most people choose to ignore it, innocence is bliss after all, but I am a person who cannot simply overlook things. Over-think maybe, or "obsess" as my mother would say, but not ignore, never ignore. It sucks that I have to be this way, sometimes I wish I could just switch it off... For everything to melt away for a little while, people could be happy just being people. Stop chasing the sun and all their ridiculous dreams of fame and success and excess, just be happy here. Now. On this grimy, crowded train, with the milky sky and my aching legs and my headphones.
Stuck in my thoughts, I open my eyes to see a girl slide in opposite me, she looks interesting against the gaudy, tacky pattern of the worn seats. She is pretty. She gives me a half smile; I try to smile back but feel like I'm wincing. I blush, I have never been good with the whole 'people' thing. The girl sets down her handbag and sighs, digging her phone from her pocket and tapping at the bright screen. I feel like this has been turned into human's default mode, idle hands=phone time. I am slightly disappointed but don't blame her, we are all slaves to technology... And look at me, I'm hardly any better, no high moral ground here, it'd be hypocritical for me to think badly of her when I, myself am currently plugged into an iPod.
As her face is illuminated with the eerie light, staring into her lap, I steal a look at her; she has dark hair, a red dress-shirt, very green eyes, a nose ring and a maroon head scarf. It's so hot this summer, her fringe has escaped and is plastered to her forehead with sweat. She looks up and I turn away, clearing my throat and staring at my hands, Creep comes on and I have to skip it because I can't look at a girl and listen to Thom sing those lyrics. Okay yeah, maybe I am a weirdo, but I'm trying to be smooth. I skip it and Let Down comes on and dear God, that's not any better, I must have muttered something, because I hear laughing. I look up, she is looking at me again, but is smiling, I remove one earphone, if my life was a romantic cheesy chick-flick she'd say something cute or whatever and we'd exchange numbers. This does not in fact happen, she says nothing and goes back to her phone. I hold back an angst-ridden, frustrated scream and put back in my earphone, drowning out everything with Thom Yorke's angst-ridden frustrated screaming. I stare out the window, feeling consoled by the fact I have someone to share my frustration with, even if it's just through a song. I look out of the grubby glass, etched with initials and shapes, I clamp my jaw shut, focusing on the world outside for a little longer. After a few stops she's gone. I don't mind, wallowing in self-pity seems to be one of my favourite hobbies, or it might as well be, the amount of time I spend doing it. I turn Creep back on because, I wish I was special. Not really actually. I think my emo soul would really get something out of dying alone. I had to laugh at that one, got a weird look from a tradie guy. Don't mind. I don't belong here.
