His hair was constantly unkempt, his bangs nearly obscuring his green eyes. Hence, seeing him today had caught me a bit off guard.Įvery day that I'd seen him appear here, he always wore the same outfit - a black wool trenchcoat, a white t-shirt, black jeans, and black Converse sneakers.
I had thought, perhaps, that he'd moved or otherwise changed his route, and hadn't really thought much about him since. I startled he hadn't appeared at this station for nearly two weeks. It was about then that I saw the boy standing there. At a certain point, I felt a sudden gust of air which pushed some of my blonde hair into my face, and turned to the tunnel a train had come, but not the one I was looking for. My eyes continued scanning the people in the subway, conjuring up story after story, the music acting as the soundtrack to every single imagined scenario I thought up. that couple is homeless they've both lost their jobs and are living in a shelter. he's going through a really bad divorce, and is on his way to visit his lawyer. She's a working mother, returning home from an important business meeting to spend quality time with her children and husband. I liked to look at them and see if I could find an interesting story to tell about them. I tended to find people rather fascinating.
But for me, music has always been a companion.Īnyway, I’ve gone off topic… as I waited for my train to come, I fell into my usual habit of people watching. I suppose I can’t quite speak for everybody who listens to music. Something to comfort you when nothing and nobody else can or will. Rather, I have always felt that music itself is a drug of sorts… a mood regulator, something to make you laugh or stop you from crying. I’ve always found this stance inaccurate. I liked to forget about the world, even if it was for a little while.įor most of my life, I’ve heard people say that rock music leads to delinquency-to crime and drinking and drugs. The strength that I got from listening, even if temporary, would have been ruined by the ambient noises around me. I think it’s mostly because of the way I feel whenever I’m listening to my music. Oh yes, it was that loud… they say that listening to music too loudly can damage your hearing, and I knew that I should probably turn it down to a safer level, but I was perfectly comfortable with where I had put them. I had it on loud enough to cover up the ambient sounds of the crowded subway station. I saw him frequently on my way home, while waiting for my train to come, the music in my earbuds permeating my brainwaves. It was more like a vague curiosity that caught my interest. In fact, it wasn’t even that he was very remarkable at all. It wasn’t anything particularly special about him that drew my attention.
0 kommentar(er)
