and then our exile

"buddhist emptiness and the christian god" is the name of the game, but i cannot concentrate and so cobb's words make no sense. each morning i leave wuddistan with successively less time to get to the transit centre, duck and weave through traffic-camera-things, race into the overflow parking lot, sprint down the gravel path, hope beyond all hope that when i turn the corner the long tall bus will still be there, and fumble at my wallet for the bus pass. friday follows thursday follows wednesday follows tuesday follows monday follows sunday follows saturday follows friday again, and there really is no chance for escape. do i sound like camus? this at any rate is why i am looking forward to reading week, that there might be some mornings i do not have to enter the city.