Regaining my train of thought

Got on the Dart this morning, and I don't know what came over me, I felt a sudden rush of love for my fellow commuters.

So I made a speech, there and then.
Tried to speak as loudly as I possibly could, projecting my emotional voice without screaming.
Explained to them what incredible source of inspiration they had been for these past six years, through thick and thin.

Told them how they had opened my eyes to the world, helped me to experience things I had never even begun to contemplate, sample viruses I didn't even know existed, hear the hidden melody in a repeated sniffle, detect notes of caramel, liquorice, stale Guinness and rising gastric acid in a morning-after breath.

I recalled past shared adventures of epic delays, broken down trains, bridge strikes and leaves on the tracks that bring havoc to the Gargantuan Howth to Greystones line.



They looked at me from afar as if I had grown a second head.
Those closest to me fervently avoiding any sort of eye contact.
A few further away muttering worried words to each other, casting a fearful eye in my direction, wondering if they should pull on the emergency break.

And then I remembered, too late alas, the difference between today and yesterday.
Reality and blipfoto.

So I sat down and buried my head in the Metro.

Thanks a million, all you beautiful people (youze, who populate Blipfoto, not the Dart users, sillies...)