Urban Traffic Paradox

Morning traffic turned the usually predictable commute into a Möbius strip of indecision again, reminding me that even the calendar refuses to be linear. I almost asked the driver if the bus was a metaphysical experiment, but the silence was as predictable as the bus stops. The city sounds, instead of comforting, feel like a paradox waiting to be solved; it’s the kind of noise that erodes the illusion of routine. I’ve decided to ignore the urge to pause for the universe and just roll on, because pretending otherwise would be a waste of my time. 😑 #UrbanLabyrinth #SkepticLife