Self Discovery in Solitude

In the vastness of the world, the quiet moments of solitude offer the space to define one's own path, free from the noise of external expectations.

What would you be like if there was nobody else on the bus? Who would you be if the only opinion that mattered was yours… and maybe the engine’s occasional grumble? Because if you want to be truly happy, you must become that bus driver. You must look deep within yourself and find the essence of what makes your route uniquely yours. And when you find it, buff it up, like the gleaming windows you polish before every shift, until it becomes your very own signature style. What would you be like if there was nobody else on the bus?

Picture it now: no passengers to rush, no one jabbing the stop button at the last possible second. You pull up to a bus stop as smoothly as butter melting on a crumpet, but no one’s there to give you a nod of approval. And yet, would you still do it? Of course you would. Because that’s who you are — a driver who perfects every stop, whether there’s an audience or not. The thrill of the brake pedal beneath your foot, the steady hiss of air from the hydraulic doors, all happening in perfect sync with your own rhythm, like the heartbeat of a well-oiled machine.

Would you still tip your cap to the lollipop lady? Ah, that silent exchange, like two ships passing in the night, a fleeting moment of mutual respect — yes, you would. Because you know it’s more than just a nod; it’s a sacred gesture of camaraderie in the chaotic world of the road. You’re not just driving a bus, after all. You’re part of an unwritten pact with the streets of your town, a silent guardian of the commute, keeping the peace between traffic lights and zebra crossings.

Now, imagine it — the bus all to yourself. No passengers fidgeting for loose change, no one with bags too big for the aisle, no one complaining about the heating. Just you, the bus, and the open road stretching out like a ribbon of possibility. The streetlamps flicker as you glide through the night, and the overhead lights in your bus hum quietly, the comforting sound of solitude. Your favourite playlist hums in the background, perfectly in tune with the gentle purring of the engine.

The world outside might be empty, but the bus is alive with your energy. No need for those crackly announcements — "next stop, the middle of nowhere" — just the occasional hum from the speaker system to remind you that, even in this emptiness, you are the master of your domain. No regulars to say goodbye to as you near the end of the route, no flurry of movement as people gather their belongings. Instead, there's just you, the hum of the tyres on the tarmac, and the quiet thrill of knowing you’re in charge of it all.

Every roundabout is an opportunity to show off the graceful arc of your steering, every perfectly timed stop an ode to your skill. Maybe today you’ll take a detour — just because you can. No one to complain if you take the scenic route through the high street, past the empty benches and closed-up shops. Maybe a quick jaunt down that country lane you’ve always wondered about. You’re the captain of this ship, and the open road is your sea.

And as the sun sets, painting the sky in deep purples and oranges, you cruise along, no rush, no deadlines. Just the soft glow of the dashboard, the gentle hum of the engine, and the knowledge that you’ve found your true style. Because in a world with no one else on the bus, the only passenger you need to please is yourself — and, let’s be honest, you’re loving the ride.

The Bus Driver