Rat Race

Public transport, I believe, is one of the only things keeping our brains from rotting away. I shall explain. In a world where there's _always_ something to distract us, whether it be the computer, or the tv, or the evil, diabolical device commonly called the mobile phone... there's not much opportunities for us to actually sift through the things in our minds, and actually.. process. Think about it. Even when you're driving, presumably, you have to keep your mind on the roads (for your sakes, I hope this is true).. you have to concentrate on what you're actually doing.

It's different in a train or tram or bus though. Life and death is not your responsibility anymore. All you have to do, really, is sit there, look out the window, and watch the world go by. In the day of iPods and mobile phone MP3 players, you can even block out the world _inside_ of the public transport vessel, be it the tram, train or bus.

Every day, I leave the house at 7.30AM, take a 30 minute train ride to Southern Cross, then take a 8 minute (I counted)tram ride to work. So that's a good 45 minutes on public transport. And every morning, I watch everyone rushing into work. I take the Collins Street tram route - and for you non-Melbournians, that's the equivalent to... Manhattan / Ampang. Where everyone dresses in suits, and earns pretty good money. So I watch scores of people scuttle to work. A mere few months ago, I was one of them. I'd scuttle up the elevators, huffing and puffing and clucking away at people who clog up the lane of the elevator that they should have left clear for us scuttlers. Now, for a change, I actually get to stand on the elevator, and watch people scuttle past me. But when I'm _on_ the tram, watching people in their suits and fancy shoes walk into work, I get this.. feeling over me.

I've tried for a long time to define this feeling, and for some reason, I haven't got any closer to it. Maybe it's a feeling of... insignificance. I mean, think about it. Hundreds of people, rushing into work, and everyone of them with a different story, different lives, different bosses, different goals and different problems. Then on the journey home, hundreds of people, with different families to go home to, partners/wives/husbands/children/homes.. sometimes... I feel like I'm on the outside, looking in.

I get this feeling, when I look at all these people, with their fancy suits and shoes and glasses.. that they've got it all together. I know that's not true, that it actually _can't_ be true, because we're all screwed up to some degree, but that's how I tend to feel when I see them. On the way home, I see scores of cars, with suited men/women sitting at the wheel, everyone with pinched looks on their faces, just wanting to get home.

Sometimes, I wonder... What is it all for? What's the point of it all? Is it just a matter of paying the bills, putting a roof over our heads, and food on the table? Becuase let's face it. Not all of us work in jobs that matter in the bigger scheme of things. Not all of us are out there, saving lives, or giving people new leases of life, or making _that_ much of a difference.

So. What's the point of it all? Apart from the whole.. working to survive thing. Is there a point?