Theory of Bad Traffic

Sometime December last year and I think a few more days before Christmas, I find myself riding an FX in which I am stranded in a highly congested street along España Boulevard. I was on my way that particular day to Megamall because we're about to buy this Home Theater System my brother and I is dreaming to have for our gaming and movie habits. Yep, we did buy the system and still enjoying it up until now. But, that's not what I'm going to discuss although a part of me is urging me to write it. Oh well.

A man keeps looking into his watch... 
A pretty girl asks him, "Why always keep checking the time? 
Are you in a hurry? 
Don't you want to stand down and cherish this moment with me?"

I have this negative feeling for bad traffic. Well, who would not? I bet all of us hate being trapped in a situation where the vehicle you are in suddenly stops, uhm, not by a red light but by a devastating, mind-irritating traffic that would last for an hour if luck's present or if not, it would take a lifetime (that is, to exaggerate the point, of course).  You know what I'm thinking? If life's a bitch as they say, then bad traffic's her life-sucking whore disciple --  an entity which consumes too much of our time. And that's a bad thing, no? 

Recalling that particular day where I was stranded, the feeling of being immobile and being stuck invaded my mind. I even saw different signage that I read and read...yup, and read, for me to think that time's moving and did not end. And so I keep checking my watch if it's still working or not: Time check! Eventually, I'm gonna say, "Good grief! I'm still alive." because of that. I'm an 'always-on-the-go' type of guy. I don't want to be in delay in whatever I'm doing, or wherever I'm going. Patience is a virtue? My ass! If experiencing bad traffic is a test of patience, flunking it with a red mark of hatred and insanity would be the most probable result.

What I feel when this particular situation comes, additionally for what I said earlier, is that the world actually ended. Time stopped. All things immobile. And I am stuck in the middle of such chaos -- sweating really hard, and abandoned by Pandora herself. Time is a crucial thing in this world. As my professor back in high school told us in class, "We are all slaves of time". Thanks for the tip, Sherlock. Many, many thanks. If only I can compute the present or future value of such thing, I would have avoided it. But I can't! It's not accounting. It's a freaking horror train with no brakes!

Another thing I truly don't like is the fact that nostalgia strikes me down hard. Real hard. I don't now if it's true or not but the idea that when someone's near to die, all his/her memories accumulates and starts to absorb your sanity releasing a blinding light; you know, like making you cry with matching melancholic piano pieces even if it's a good memory? -- I relate it to a bad traffic. It may sound a little bit off and a bit of a long-shot, but I honestly connect it with what I'm experiencing in a bad travel day. Yep, somehow it connects.

Bad traffic. Time. Memories. Nostalgia.

The man did not say anything at first,
his eyes meet the lady's ; 
then he says, "I don't belong here, love."
"I do not."

Thank you for reading, everyone. May you have a great day ahead! Minus the traffic, of course. =)



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