stumblingtumbling

yesterday i was travelling home on the mrt with The peak hour crowd. and jurong everyone got up to exit, and the people on the platform crowded around to board, and... the doors didnt open for a few minutes. and suddenly it became very interesting to me: people on two sides of the doors; getting in, getting out, getting somewhere. and i realized

it was a mirror: the looks on their faces told stories of frustration, tiredness, nochalance. pictures of : i'm-going-for-a-date-damn-this-train-driver, huh-what's-happening, just-got-promoted, just-failed-maths-again, these-heels-hurt, 59seconds-60seconds-61seconds, the-toto-outlet-is-gonna-close, huh-what's-happening, wait-is-today-tuesday-or-wednesday, heng-today-never-OT, and-what-the-heck-is-happening.

for me my face read: someone-needs-to-haul-the-new-driver-out-and-retrain-him

it was like movies of twenty people at that moment. so many stories to tell, to read! i can see them already: The Story of Woman in Black Dress, A Day in the Life of School-boy Tan, Train-stopping, Mundane Affairs, Life in the Fast Lane...or Not, The Platform. it was like time slowed down, and played out frame by frame. then the doors opened and

you kick up the leaves and the magic is lost
(piano interlude)