MysticDreams

[hobanger]

i guess this was my homework but hey you just might like it


A public transport experience

9:22pm Flinders Street station

The air is bitterly cold, with each breath I feel the icy air rush in. As I exhale, a frosty mixture of carbon dioxide and alcohol comes out. They were late. I had been waiting here for over an hour and yet they had the guts to ditch me in this cold waste land. The sky above is churning with thick clouds. I move briskly towards the shelter of the station. Any moment now the rain would begin and flashes of lightning would soon stork the skies. I walked casually towards the stairs of the station. This grand structure with clocks embedded on it stood in front of me, as if defiant, withstanding any elements Mother Nature could throw at it. Around me were people who were scurrying quickly, going home after a long days work. I wonder what they were thinking, what worries they had, were they suicidal? happy? sad? angry? It was one of those moments where you put your own life on hold and observe others, wondering what type of life they lived and what stories they could have told.

I moved towards the validating machines. I hated them with a vengeance. I hated the way they would snatch your ticket, devour it and if valid open these small pathetic little gates which stood in your way of going home. To be honest I hate technology and they way it is changing our society. We never really question whether we need it? Does it help us anyway, why can’t we just be satisfied with what we have damn it. Above the machines stood the cloaked ticket inspectors. They hovered around the machines, scanning, waiting, and ready to pounce on any travellers suspected of doing anything wrong. They are feared by all and emit a sense of power as if to say that they ruled the rails. I moved through and validated my ticket in an orderly fashion. The inspectors noticed me and had their eyes trained on me, waiting for me to do something wrong. I gave them an arrogant smirk, they were not going to ping me for anything today. I headed towards platform 6.


I headed down the whirring escalator. As I reached the platform a swirling wind came though from the west bringing with it droplets of water which clung onto my clothes. Damn! It was cold. I strengthened my grip on the trench coat I was wearing and headed towards a chair. I sat down and my ass, all of a sudden felt cold. It was as if someone had just died on the seat. I looked up and saw a druggy come to me. Crap! Why today. Did he not know that I was pissed off and quite liable to go insane? “Hey do you have any spare cash man?”
“Get lost! My ass is freezing and I cannot be stuffed getting a five out of my wallet!”. I could see that he was a hanger, someone who would not let go especially if you piss him off. All I wanted was peace and some place with a warmer climate to accommodate my butt.
“Hey dude if you give me the five bucks I’ll share a cone with ya”, I’d have to say that I was surprised he had not slung out a knife and try to slit my throat.
“Not interested, besides I don’t feel like getting stoned today”.
I could see that he was beginning to become agitated. I began to walk away.
“Oi! Dude don’t you feel a little sympathy at all. Come on, I’m doing it tough at the moment and I need every cent a can get.”
I turned around. His comments stirred my anger. I don’t know why but I decided to vent my anger at him and gave him a verbal bashing.
“Get a job! Do you honestly think I care? It’s because of you our back alleys are feared and reek of piss. You waste your money away on alcohol and drugs until you wither away and die. Do you honestly think I feel sympathy for you? People tell me to feel sorry for the likes of you but you know what? I would gladly see you lying their on the street after a drug overdose. Do you contribute to society? No! You’re a maggot feasting on the scraps thrown at you by social security. You wonder why people vote for right wing conservatives. They don’t give two shits about you. And who should, whose fault is it? I work and I pay my dues, you on the other hand live off others and drag the rest of us down. Don’t start blaming everyone else because it is your fault and no one else. Get off the drugs and find a job for Christ sake! Get out of my sight and find a real life our just commit suicide because no one here will give a damn about you!” And with that I left feeling a tinge of guilt but satisfied in that I had managed to get away from his pestering. I didn’t mean all that I said but my anger got the better of me.


“Good evening passengers the 9:31 Cranbourne train departing from platform 6 has been delayed and is now expected in 10 minutes. Connex apologies for any inconveniences”. I was now condemned to an extra ten minutes of misery. Each minute drew by slowly but finally that old rickety rust bucket of a train drew in. Its only redeeming feature was the fact that it had heating. I laboured to open the cold, metallic, frost infested doors. I walked onto the train and scanned the carriage. I walked towards my seat and notice a little old lady tighten her grip around her purse. A part of me died at that moment. Why would she be intimidated by a guy with a beard who also happens to be wearing a long trench coat?

I sat down and scanned the carriage. There were so many stereotypes. The international students speaking in their native tongue, the old grumpy looking couple, the anxious businessman talking loudly on a cell phone, the young mother with shrieking children, the cyclist who parks his bike on the hand rail, the young lovers who openly show their romance, the try hard wannabe youthful gangsters who talk of their exploits, the homeless fellow who always smells like a mixture of alcohol and rubbish. But for some reason I could not find the typical weirdo, you know the guy/girl who dresses like a Goth and fails to meet modern hygienic standards.

I surveyed the carriage again searching for anyone I missed but to no avail. Then it dawned on me. I glanced towards the window and saw myself. Oh my God, what had I become. How did it reach to this stage? When did I become the “WIERDO”? I had become an outcast of society. Maybe I had reached the pre-stage of becoming the weirdo, you know the stage where you’re at a cross road, ready to get your body pierced, your hair dyed blue and flirting with certain brands of mascara. I began to panic, the fact that I failed to even notice this change worried me. For the rest of the trip I sat down in silence and reflected on where it all went wrong. Maybe it just was not my day, or maybe I could change my self, maybe just maybe I could return to being normal.

Finally my station came, I yanked the rusty door open and got out. A vicious wind blew into my face bringing with it cold icy water. To my right I noticed a group of men walking towards me. I was calm and did not begin running. Then I heard giggles and a lot of muttering from the mob. I began to quicken my pace but so did they. Then I saw him, it was the druggy I had ridiculed before. He showed a big cheesy smile I would never forget. All of a sudden I heard him scream “Get the weirdo!” The mob charged towards me. I knew today was not my day.

Martin Ho


sorry if there is a little bit of swearing didnt mean to make it offensive