The ride of your life
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Brahs, how can you hear all this and not break down in tears? Iām sitting on a bus now, squeezed in between two enormous men with profound hygienic challenges, and I can make out a hundred different sounds. A paper rustling, a door opening, a zipper zipping, an engine growling, two boys playing with something that beeps. The woman across from me coughs in her hand and, when she reaches into her pocket for a tissue, crumples something in there. Outside, the engines of a dozen cars gasp when the light turns green. The world comes more and more into focus and as it does every sound says: just this, my friend. Just this, just this ā but look how much it is! Everything you sought is here! And just now the air brakes were calling your name!
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What could be missing? Nothing is missing. Go son -- get on the bus! Love is the destination ā Love is the journey!
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