Notes

The evening subway ride
At first I found it quite bothering, even the simple thought of the endless waiting followed by two haurs of squeezing betweeen strangers troubled me.
Then as days went by, i found strange pleasure in this new daily journey.
And i most enjoy it on the way home, in late evenings.
When you get into the wagon at 5 pm, you grab into that long metal handle, trying not to think wbout how many unwashed hands grabbed it throughout the day. Eventually, you dismiss the disturbing thoughts and start to glance at your fellow passengers..
Glimpsing around, you find each one of them looking somewhere far away from their window, perhaps fixating their sight on a faintly visibe star in the dusky sky, or simply drifting away in their thoughts as the endless passing film of trees and old buildings, cars and busy humans fly past their eyes .
While observing their unfamiliar faces, a strange wave of warmth and confort settles gentely in your heart, for the weary eyes and arched backs remind you that you're not alone in your struggle in this world, that each one us is trying his hardest, to live, or to barely survive. You see it in that young student with heavy eyelids, the old man struggling to stay on his feet, the midlle aged office worker wondering how he'll be able to make ends meet and the lost youth that considers risking his life -as ironic as it sounds- to Live, to leave. And then, there's me, right over here observing each one of you humble people, making out stories about you, as we go through our journey together wishing for an empty seat.