Zen amidst the Chaos [journal]
Oct. 16th, 2004 12:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kyrasantae
I hope I have enough batteries in this flashlight because I didn't bring any extra.
These people are insane, they're drinking on the bus (well, that I expected). I'm glad that I put loud music on my mp3 player and that I can hear it above the nose on the bus. It's probably not very good for my ears, but it's better than raw noise alone blasting into me. I'm out for now (2000h) -- time for some self-initiative for zen amidst the chaos of this bus. I must remember to buy earplugs for next time. And maybe nose plugs. The pungent smell of C2H5OH tickles my nose, and I remind myself that I will never be able to drink as they do (down a whole bottle of liquor straight). Thank all of the Higher Powers for that. I have to remind myself every once in a while else I fear forgetting and succumbing to the devil and my downfall.
Mike-I-don't-know-from-Calgary (鄧淇元) dropped by my bus during one of the (non-washroom) breaks. He forgot to bring my knife though. But he brought his own. I couldn't quite see it [in the dark] but I held it in my hands and it felt very comforting...I was very surprised that he was Asian. Never thought there were other Asians who were obsessed with knives like I was. He really reminded me of someone else I know, but I can't place it. Stanley, maybe. Kid with scrawny hair and wears glasses.
Ended up in Westlock (about 70km NNW of here, as the crow flies) at 8:45. Mike not only gets in with fake ID, he jacked money from the tip jar [quite a lot, as it turns out], and managed to smuggle in some drink. Not that I mind, but ethically I didn't take the money he offered me in return for the food I shared with him because I didn't want dirty money. Then it started snowing. It's 12:30 now and I'm on the first bus home with him because I don't want to be there -- too loud, too smoky, and too, well, not so much wild, but very energetic and I don't like that. Then again, Mike really isn't totally my kind of guy; I think drunk people are like that, they try to hit on chicks. And he's trying to flatter me all the time and I'm not experienced enough to tell if he's really meaning it or not (probably not. He's drunk, for fark's sake!).
At least the ride back is a lot quieter.
These people are insane, they're drinking on the bus (well, that I expected). I'm glad that I put loud music on my mp3 player and that I can hear it above the nose on the bus. It's probably not very good for my ears, but it's better than raw noise alone blasting into me. I'm out for now (2000h) -- time for some self-initiative for zen amidst the chaos of this bus. I must remember to buy earplugs for next time. And maybe nose plugs. The pungent smell of C2H5OH tickles my nose, and I remind myself that I will never be able to drink as they do (down a whole bottle of liquor straight). Thank all of the Higher Powers for that. I have to remind myself every once in a while else I fear forgetting and succumbing to the devil and my downfall.
Mike-I-don't-know-from-Calgary (鄧淇元) dropped by my bus during one of the (non-washroom) breaks. He forgot to bring my knife though. But he brought his own. I couldn't quite see it [in the dark] but I held it in my hands and it felt very comforting...I was very surprised that he was Asian. Never thought there were other Asians who were obsessed with knives like I was. He really reminded me of someone else I know, but I can't place it. Stanley, maybe. Kid with scrawny hair and wears glasses.
Ended up in Westlock (about 70km NNW of here, as the crow flies) at 8:45. Mike not only gets in with fake ID, he jacked money from the tip jar [quite a lot, as it turns out], and managed to smuggle in some drink. Not that I mind, but ethically I didn't take the money he offered me in return for the food I shared with him because I didn't want dirty money. Then it started snowing. It's 12:30 now and I'm on the first bus home with him because I don't want to be there -- too loud, too smoky, and too, well, not so much wild, but very energetic and I don't like that. Then again, Mike really isn't totally my kind of guy; I think drunk people are like that, they try to hit on chicks. And he's trying to flatter me all the time and I'm not experienced enough to tell if he's really meaning it or not (probably not. He's drunk, for fark's sake!).
At least the ride back is a lot quieter.
