Travelling Solo

I know of few things in this troubled world that are more wonderful than taking the bus alone, with no real destination in mind and with no one to meet at the other end. I know of few things that are more enjoyable than the serenity the mind experiences at having no obligations in terms of where to go or what to do. It is an explorer's joy. It is, once again, freedom.

On the eleventh day of May, I took a day off school. I have since resolved to, whenever possible during my life, take the eleventh day of every month off. I walked onto the 105 at 10 in the morning with the half-formed notion of going downtown to look at books or music (ah, but what else?). The bus was as empty as I have ever known it to be, as were the streets of Montreal-West (although Ste-Catherine, of course, was an entirely different scene). I have never known such quiet excitement as I felt stepping onto that bus, with nearly everyone I knew either sweltering in a classroom or running around the hospital (and it is interesting how so many of my acquaintances place in one of those two categories). The list of beautiful things is from that day, as is my copy of Forever Changes (really really good. no, really. check it out).

All this only serves as a constant reminder of my nomadic tendencies. There is so much to see, and I have no doubt that I will see much of it.