Wabi-sabi. Or, in Japanese, 侘寂. The first letter, spelled wabi in Japanese, suggests disappointment and abandonment. The second letter, sabi in Japanese, suggests stillness and desolation. Together, these characters represent a Japanese aesthetic that cannot easily be explained without examples.
The bus sported its indiscreet uniform of orange, white and purple.Today, I boarded the bus home. Sat in the front seat on the second deck for it offered the widest view.
The plastic pane covering the tube which the driver looked through to observe the upper deck had its frame broken.
One side was missing. The others were chipped.
The window was stained with teardrops of translucent grey dust; its gray frame was yellow with dirt.
There weren't many people up on the second deck; just me and a few aging uncles performing an on-again-off-again conversation in a dialect that would probably disappear from regular usage given another generation.
Everything was incomplete, they have suffered under the hand of time.
And in it all in all the dirt and dust and rust it was beautiful.
Like the journal wrinkled from rain and dog-eared from thumbing.
Unlike the storybook protected by non-biodegradable plastic.
Like the clumps of damaged thread on your aged garment.
Unlike the dress and sash you bought just yesterday.
Like the yellowing bedsheets of five years old.
Unlike the LCD television, sleek and glossy.
The paint forced on the bus peel under rain revealing bits and portions of metal dulled white.
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