The Story of Journeys

Why are these roads so long? Especially the way to go. Maybe there's reason to be outgoing. I asked myself the same question today.

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I love the bus ride, albeit challenging. I always liked it. Who knows, maybe a habit of being a student. There is a strange smell of buses.

A bit of concern with the smell of mixed moisture. Makes you creepy. The head leaning against the glass is the fog of the head alignment. One half of the night is the coolness that hits the face no matter what season of the break.

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The day is separate, the night is separate. The stories are never-ending. Unbearable oddness of sleeping in a place with other faces that you don't know. But most of all, the story of the reunion is perhaps the moment of separation.

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