Memoirs of an Amnesiac

I have been a school bus rider for almost eight years now. While the perks of having to ride the aircon bus includes sleeping there the whole trip and saving up on fare (that just recently hiked up), waking up early just to catch it, usually overrides those perks.

Yet while most of my coworkers avoid the ride, what with a lot of blind alleys, and endless curves, I actually lavish in it. I guess it's one of those reasons I really drag myself up early each day for work (even when I only had at most 4 hours of sleep, for staying up until the wee hours of the morning, trying to lure my writer's muses).

I usually have my "niche" in the bus, that seat reserved for me where I had mostly done most of my reflections, my journey into the deep recesses of my mind. Although the trip is very predictable, there are those along the way, very new and interesting finds. In fact, every trip promises new adventures for me, even when the route is pretty much the same. For instance, there is this tree that I usually look over when we pass by this huge house. Just this morning, its branches had been stripped off. I wonder what could have caused it. New roses have bloomed in that white house's garden. They all look lovely to me (to my chagrin too for I have never had any green thumb).

Sometimes, just for the fun of it, when some students already went and there are empty seats, I try sitting at each of them for different days. Indeed, everything looks different from which side I sit on, as in life ---different perspectives, so to say. I may not be able to see other's point of view because I had long been in mine, but I sure am always open, given the chance to be in their own seat.

At other times, when I get inside the bus and someone has already taken my seat, there is this gnawing annoyance that just creeps in. I guess I'm the territorial type, or I am just someone who doesn't easily adapt to new configurations. But I take it nevertheless (albeit sometimes with a grain of salt).

Because of the new route this week, our trip has become longer. While I was trying to catch a few winks before I hit the busy confines of the school where I work, I noticed that we're taking a new route and that I could not anymore estimate the time I need to wake up ( I don't want anyone shrugging me off when we reach the school. It would be embarrassing I guess). So, I just let my eyes wander. Indeed there are subdivisions which are really mushrooming in the hilly districts of urban Cebu. I marvel at houses and let my mind wander in those neatly manicured lawns and carefully kept rosebeds. I wonder how my dream house would look like.

Each time we leave the subdivisions, my heart bursts with longing for the beauty of the landscape that is accessible only to school buses. And my mind wanders ever more, finding it mysterious to have hidden from public view, a different world -- something exquisite, yet exclusive, like the inner recesses of one's mind.

The bumps will never far outweigh the adventure and experience of being there. My, I think that's another hitch into creating and staying in one's perspective.