How Did I Get Here? And I Don't Mean The Crosstown m21 (Or Do I?)

I fucking hate people who sit sideways on the bus. You know what I mean, some idiot wants to feel like he's in his fucking living room, so he has to lounge around, and stupid you, if you want to sit in your chair normally like a civilized person, have to look at the guy's fucking face. Or else, stare intently out the window. Now, the window's not bad, but what if I don't want to look out there? What if I want to sit forward? Who are you to dictate what I do?

See, Heaven gives you the freedom to avoid all that. In many ways, the earth bus is a microcosm of the earth itself. This is especially true for angels, because most of the dead are done with the bus, angels deliberately get on,knowing there will be this frustration to deal with. So why get on the bus at all? The rewarding destination? Is there a fear of general malaise? Is the litmus test for angelhood simply being so masochistic that we define our existence as pain, and need to "escape" the divine euphoria by jumping into the emotional frying pans of the damaged living?

I don't know, I haven't been an angel long enough. But if this asshole in front of me can stir up existence pondering and not make me want to punch him in the fucking face, maybe I've come a long way already. But still, I beg you, GET OFF THE FUCKING BUS.