has officially taken over my mind.
As I was standing on the bus home today, I noticed an empty seat and leapt into its comfy orange arms, sighing loudly and turning my head to the window. I caught a glimpse of red hair in front of me (it was one of those sideways chairs in a bus full of straight ahead-ness, so it's easier for people to stare at you), but thought nothing of it and gave my full attention to the passing trees. Gradually I became aware of someone staring at me. The red hair was turned squarely in my direction. Still, it never occured to me to take my eyes off the vegetation outside. I remember I was thinking about how nice it would be to jump off the bus and swim my way home in the river beside the road, and how swimming would make me cold, and how my muffin was cold by the time I got to it this morning, when a voice interrupted my thoughts:
"You really don't look in front of you, do you?"
I turned and focused ahead with some difficulty. It was Emily, a close friend of mine, trying unsuccessfully to hide her disbelief at being ignored for more than five minutes.
"Guh?" I stammered (I was still slipping out of my lateral haze - speech was difficult).
When recognition set in I apologized and spoke to her like a normal, functioning member of society. I feel bad that I don't notice things in front of me sometimes, but I wouldn't say it's always a bad thing. It's easy for me to forget things; this can be useful. I like to think that happiness is only a window away. Sure, I get laughed at a lot, but I don't really care. It's hard for most people to understand that thinking sideways makes you look sideways, move sideways, even live sideways. Looking ahead is scary; it's one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.