Buses Pt.2

I think Buses are the perfect metaphor for life. I think they explain the way of life in the best possible way. You get on a bus, you meet people and learn so much from them. There are people that you know, the people that you love, sometimes just people that exist and also sometimes the people you hate. But they are there on the journey with you. 

Sometimes there are bumps, there are speed breakers but at the same time there is harmony and peace. Sometimes you want to jump off the bus but sometimes you want to stay in it forever. Sometimes you see people that you love leave or jump off the bus unexpectedly and that breaks your heart. But you're not alone. You are surrounded by people, who in a way or other help you recover. Sometimes your bus is too filled but yet you feel lonely. The loneliness doesn’t stem due to the lack of quantity of people but rather by the quality of the people around you. Sometimes there are barely any people but yet you feel fulfilled. 

But sometimes the bus leads in people who cause nothing but chaos. You are surrounded with people who want to destroy you. You want to let go but they stay. But once they do their absence is felt. You want their chaos even though it destroyed your bus. But in a few days, weeks or months, you realise the chaos that they left destroyed you. You realise that they are the poison of your bus rather than your medicine. Your sadness turns into anger, anger towards them, towards yourself but slowly as time places anger melts to peace. This is the peace you created for yourself by picking up the broken pieces and fixing them. 

Sometimes you see your bus stop, you hate it and love it at the same time. You hate staying stuck but at the same time that is what you need. You wake up everyday cursing your life for staying stuck. But what makes it worse? As you see other buses running at full speed. You wish your bus was fast but deep down you cherish this stillness. 

At the end, no matter what happens, what type of bus you have, what colour is or how crowded it is; the bus moves. Slow or fast but your bus moves. Moves to the same place where all buses move. While your journey slowly reaches its ends you realise that life wasn’t about the destination because everyone reaches the same place. But rather it was about the journey that took you there. It could be a long one or a short one, a bumpy one or a peaceful one but what mattered was if you were happy for most part of it. 

Thank You 💝

MJM.