I try to be an optimistic person. But nothing tests my faith in humanity like waiting for the bus on a Monday morning 🕖. Especially when I know that the moment I step away to grab a coffee, it will magically appear and speed away without me ☕️🚍💨.
There’s a certain look we all give each other at the stop. It says: “Yes, we’re strangers, but we suffer together.” Bonded by the mystery of the bus schedule — a riddle wrapped in a delay inside a traffic jam 🧩🚦.
And when the bus finally arrives, it’s either empty and peaceful… or full of people who’ve all clearly decided today is the day to carry large mysterious bags and take phone calls on speaker 📦📢.
I once tried to be productive and read a book on the ride. That lasted until the driver hit a pothole big enough to swallow my concentration — and half my coffee.
Oh, and let’s not talk about the metro. It’s like a dating app: full of interesting characters, strange noises, and lots of staring. But no actual connections 😅.
Still, I love the chaos. It's the kind of mess that makes life feel real. Because if you can survive morning public transport without losing your mind or your earphones — you can do anything 💪🎧.