I rode home from Glasgow tonight, iPod earbuds in place, knees up and pushed against the seat in front of me, slouched down and gazing out the window at the blurry silhouettes of trees against the white snow in front of a red-tinted night sky, and I felt both contemplatively sad and comfortably safe at the same time. It’s the same feeling as being on a road trip, but not being the one driving, so I’m free to let my mind wander and let my thoughts mold to whatever music I’m listening to. Oddly enough, even though I’m thousands of miles away from any country Texas highway I’ve taken roadtrips on in the past, it feels the same. I feel safe, knowing (or rather, trusting) the bus driver will get me back to Edinburgh safely, and it’s familiar now where I’m coming from (spending time with Claire, a decade-long friendship that feels like home) and where I’m going (a city with streets that are second nature to me now and a cozy room with plenty of heat coming out of my radiator ). I always look forward to this bus ride, and yet I always seem to choose the most haunting music to listen to for the journey, which makes me feel at peace, but also have this melancholy loneliness that comes with staring out into an uninhabited darkness of trees and snowy hills.
imgonnadorighthere.wordpress.com 
Leave a Reply