Look Around

So it's wet. It shouldn't be, it's august, but what are you gonna do? it's not like the met office has a complaints department. you don't really mind, it's kind of refreshing in its own way. but you wish your feet weren't quite so wet. there's another bus. full to bursting. commuter sardines, poor bastards. you were like that till you realised. for a long time you didn't really know what it was. just that it wasn't right anymore.
slowly you realise that it's not the claustrophobia that drove you to this. that was all you could think of at first. the cold body rush of panic. the walls moving in. people getting closer, breathing in your air. but that's not what it was. awareness was the key. in your vacuum-packed transport you were only ever aware of being a suffocated part of the commuter cattle-wagon.
now, here in the air, in the cold, beautiful rain, you still see the cattle-wagons, but you are amazed by the numbers. you can't comprehend that there are so many people. thousands everyday. and you never see anyone you know. a city this size and you don't talk to anyone. everyone is the enemy. every single person holds the potential to steal your seat. to ask you for a light. or worse, for money. a thousand other lives, each ticking away without you. lives you'll never touch.
but you needed to see it. infinity is a concept scientists say the layman can't comprehend. but you see it every day. every day for six years you walked the same road. different people everyday. each one has their own story. out of the crush you get to see them pass you by. a glimpse, a sideways glance. as they pass, you try and imagine each one's story. what makes them laugh? who is important to them?
So in a way you do touch them. you acknowledge each one out of the thousands. we could be good friends, we just haven't crossed paths yet. then you realise it's not so lonely out here after all. you are among friends. and in the end it's worth having damp feet for.