On the bus
At 4.45 my mood swapped to 'out of office' and resentment tinged the documents i crafted. Each done in a miserly manner like each second was gold paid. Out of the office and standing in the cold i fidgeted with equal impatience and longing to be away from this place, not so much because i dislike it but for what it stands for in mind; inactivity, atrophy and life never to be returned.
My mind soars off to other places, ignoring glances from others at my twitching legs and yogic breathing, taking me to thoughts of next year's sun and imagined good times yet to be had. A song from 13 years ago keeps the mood high by tempering those youthful memories with idle dreams of the future.
I'm looking forward to good times with friends, to the challenges of training next year, to new people that i'll meet and to all the things i cannot guess that lie round the corner. While i may be cynical and pessimistic at times i'm always hoping for a brighter future, for all:
My mind soars off to other places, ignoring glances from others at my twitching legs and yogic breathing, taking me to thoughts of next year's sun and imagined good times yet to be had. A song from 13 years ago keeps the mood high by tempering those youthful memories with idle dreams of the future.
I'm looking forward to good times with friends, to the challenges of training next year, to new people that i'll meet and to all the things i cannot guess that lie round the corner. While i may be cynical and pessimistic at times i'm always hoping for a brighter future, for all: