On Tour

When I in counseling a few weeks ago, my counselor told me I fit the description of a "pleaser"; a person that does whatever to keep the peace and such. It's a good thing to be, but at the same time when you're grieving it can be detrimental to you. And so she asked me, "What makes/would make you happy?" Any other question anybody asks me, I usually have a clear answer for. But with that question, I really struggle.

Why? Well... to tell you the truth, I'm a large part pessimist: I know there's the possibility of good things happening; I know there's the possibility of bad. I prepare for the worst because... well... well if a good thing happens, do you really need preparation for it? So I don't think about happiness too much; I stay on guard, and if a happy thing comes by, great. But I tire of seeking happiness, ya know? To me, a lot of times it's not worth the effort it takes to get to it.

Anywasy, I was listening to a song sent to me by my homie Twan in Canada: "Sorry" by Zion I. It's an exceedingly beautiful song; I've been restless today, and this song really kept my emotions in check all day. As it played, you know what it made me think about? It made me think about all the outta-town trips I've been on in my life, on the charter buses and such. More specifically, the overnight trips.

Well, it wasn't exactly the trips themselves I was thinking about; it was the bus rides. But not just the rides themselves; there's always a certain time on any overnight trip I've been on that sticks in my mind. It's when the passengers have grown tired of watching movies and the televisions go off. People pull out their blankets and pillows and call it a night ride. The only sound is the bus engine murmuring.

I find myself near the back of the bus beneath a dim, usually red or blue-colored light. We're passing by the metro area of some city, but no one seems to care but me. But that's okay. I'm leaning against the window with a notebook in my lap, knowing I'm not gonna write anything, but there seems to be so much to write about. (Can I tell you about?... I might as well since I'm here: There was this one time when I was on a bus passing through Atlanta. It was a foggy morning and the sun hadn't risen yet; it was still hours away. As the people around me slept, I looked out a window, and I saw a skyscraper rise above the mists. I kid you not; the building appeared to be a golden tower. I guess the distant-distant sunlight somehow was reflecting off it, but it was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in person. Anywasy...)

Eventually, the notebook ends up in the empty seat next to me, assuming it's open. Usually it's not though. Preferably, my homie Swim'll be in it. On trips we've been on together, it's been cool because we're so close that we don't hafta talk. I like that about old friends: they know you so well that the only reason they chill witcha is just to chill witcha, like you're just a natural part of each other's environment. If not Swim (and if it HAS to be somebody) then maybe a nice young lady rests next to me. But ya know... as much as I love women... it's nice to have nothing to think about. Empty seat.

To know that my job in the back of the bus is to sit there and let the driver drive... No responsibilities anywhere close to me, new sights gracing my eyes as I sit and watch. No chatter to keep me bound to my immediate surroundings. Maybe my headphones on low, playing something nice like this Zion I track. Or maybe no sound at all, allowing the bus to lull me. And we just ride through the night. Once or twice it's been raining outside, and the lights from the traffic and city lights reflected off the windows in a beautiful array. And I felt sorry for the sleeping passengers who missed that part of the trip.

So... Ms. King, I think that's what would make me happy. Give me a charter bus, a gaggle of my peeps, pile us on a bus, and send us on a trip. And when the night falls, and they all pipe down and we're easing through the night, that's when I'll be happiest.

Come to think of it... pursuing this music thing... maybe I was meant to tour or something huh? Get on a bus to who knows where; perform. Get back on the bus; hit another location. Just be forever on tour. Yeah... maybe that. Maybe that's when I'll be happy Ms. King.

B-J