reflections of a solitary commuter

(I feel guilty for the distance I commute daily, for the inefficiencies of my transit which are in no real way mitigated by my efficiency relative to the inefficiencies of others. This feels like a necessary disclaimer.)

I think the secret to slow traffic and long commutes are open side windows. Whenver I start to get bored, or irritable, a quick glance out an open window, and I can't help but smile. No matter where I am, no matter what the surroundings, looking at them from angles other than straight ahead makes them interesting, sometimes compelling, often pretty. I suspect it's no mistake that things seen through the windshield always look a little faded, a little less real for the sake of safety; if things ahead were as distracting, I imagine accidents would increase, but maybe those involved would be happier.

There's probably a metaphor in there somewhere, but I'll take the phor today. Sometimes it feels like certain moments are gifts intended for everyone, but I'm one of the lucky and sometimes lonely ones who get it.

I feel like I need a weektime partner in crime, or at least ambience absorption.