“oh.”

it escapes her lips, a puff of warm air in the cold interior of the 26 south. embarassed, she lowers her eyes and clasps her hands together and locking her lips in the like. the sound was all too familiar; she’s remembered something.

and that’s when you realize you’re not the only one wondering if you left the iron on, or wishing you had grabbed your gloves this morning or thinking about what you’ll have for dinner. you’re not the only one with things you’ve yet to say, regrets you’ve reconsidered or laundry to do. you’re not the only one with features you’re not proud of, secrets that no one else knows, or cold feet.

this is just one bus in one city at rush hour in one tiny pocket of the world and you are only one. and depending on the weather, it can empower or terrify you to know:

you are small.

(via )

1st Dec 2010 (7:45 pm) - Reblogged from +