Through the glass and into my mind come sights and glimpses, some fascinating, some mundane, but all sharing a similar detachment from my reality. I'm inside, the visions are outside.

The bus is my protective womb, sheltering me from shifting landscapes and transient illusions.

I gaze into the distance and nothing seems to move. I look nearby and a motion blur of roadside color whizzes by at an impossible speed.

It's all satisfyingly hypnotic.

Dear Tony...