I’m on the bus. The same bus I take almost every day, sometimes more than once. The 38r. It feels like home to be on this bus. I don’t know the faces around me, but I recognize them from time to me. I can still recall the first time I took the muni, or better yet, the first time I took a bus alone. I was so afraid. I felt successful after, like I was finally adjusting into living in a city. Now, the city feels like home. I can look at random streets and recall past memories that have happened there. This city feels like the place I was born, as if I became a person when I finally stepped foot into the varying streets and avenues in the Inner Richmond.
I notice the bus announcements that i have heard hundreds of times, to keep certain seats open for those who are older or have disabilities. I hear stop after stop. I ride the bus for 7 stops eagerly waiting until I can be free in my apartment. I notice myself getting tired or feeling like I have a headache. And then I look around. I forget that my life may seem like a breeze to those who have a long commute or have been up working since the crack of dawn. It’s so easy to get caught up in ourselves, it’s just as easy to put on your headphones and escape. This is one of the few times I’m not listening to music, because my phone is almost dead. I don’t believe that people used to be this way. I almost feel like my phone is an extension of my being, and without it, I wouldn’t be able to do the things I did today. What was life like without cellphones? Without the ability to be in your own world through a pair of headphones? Did people actually use to talk on the bus? Were people just as self absorbed back in the day without cellphones? Did conversation actually used to exist?
I wish I could watch a scene of the muni before phones and live in it for just a moment to appreciate, and dissociate from the bubble of privilege I live in today.