I often take my music with me on my commute, but I don't always have my headphones, though. I feel like when you have them on, it creates a barrier between you and everyone else, a fort from which you can better observe everyone. When you don't have headphones, and you hear the sounds and music of the Metro with full clarity, you're a part of everything and so it's harder to be objective of your fellow passengers.
Everyone from older women to young men to uptight business types carry on with their headphones, listening to who knows what, either on their phones or music players. I even saw a lady watching old Christina Aguilera videos on her iPod the other day, captivated, as though she'd never seen them before. What a random place to watch a music video, I thought to myself as the train pulled closer to Union Station.
Sometimes people look catatonically ahead with their ear buds connected, as though the music they were listening to simply didn't move them. Other times, there are those that mouth the words, obviously in tune with their tunes. And sometimes, people just kind of dance by themselves. I do this sometimes, I wonder if people think I'm a freak, but I figure if I have to jump from train to train, rush because the Metro is never on time, I might as well have a good time.
All this unheard music going on in the Metro kind of highlights the fact that everyone lives in their own little universe. In this case, everyone also has their own soundtrack.?á
I always wonder after what kind of music people are listening to. Perhaps it's because i'm inquisitive, or perhaps nosey. In either case, the way the person listens to their music tells you a lot about who they might be.?á
It's interesting to me that, even though people put on their ear buds to block out the world, sometimes the way their music moves them, ends up inviting the world to know them a little better.?á