FYI

You may have been wondering "What does it feel like to get hit by a bus?"

Well, let me tell you.

(I'm fine, by the way)

Actually getting hit by the bus doesn't really hurt that much. You have time for a lot of thought, or rather, time seems to slow to accomodate all the thoughts you have in a flash. Somewhere between the side of the bus and the pavement I had quite the conversation with myself. It went something like this:

"OWWWW FUCK"
"What the fuck?"
"Wow, I really didn't think that bus was going to hit me."
"Who does this asshole think he is? All these other buses driving like maniacs haven't been hitting me."
"Ohhhhhhhhh fuck PREPARE FOR IMPACT"

Getting hit by the bus doesn't hurt that much. What does hurt is hitting the road.

"FFFFUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKK"
"OW MY FUCKING HAND"
"FUCK MY KNEE"
"This could have been worse"
"My face? OK, didn't hit my face..."
"Oooooooh fuck I'm still moving..."
"Oh fuck oh fuck I'm gonna roll"
"OK, no I'm not"
"Oh shit, is my camera broken?"
"OWWWWW FUCCCCCKKKK SKIN SLIDING ON ASPHALT"
"FFFUUUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKK"
"JESUS FUCK FUCK THAT HURTS LIKE A BITCH MOTHERFUCK"
"aaahhhhhhhhhhh"

Then you finish hitting the road and it still hurts.

"Ok, it's over"
"Fuck, my hands hurt"
"Where the fuck am I?"
"OK, right here, OK...got it"
"Fuck, I ripped a fucking hole right in my awesome new teal pants"
"Oh shit, my camera"
"Camera's fine"
"Do I have wounds? Let's see..."
"Ayyaaahhhaaaa shhiiittt gonna need to wash that hand pronto"
"Oooooo hoo hoo fuck, look at that shit coming out of my leg"
"OK, water, soap, go."
"Where the fuck has that bus gone to?"
"Jesus fuck that fucking stings like a fuck."

I think I horrified every single patron of the restaurant I stumbled into to wash my wounds in, looking like, well, like I got hit by a bus. I think I was also in shock because I was pure mission, pure focus until I got back to my hotel half an hour later I was a bit limpy and very volatile. Everyone who rubbed me the wrong way got an unusually emotive earful from me. Anyways, I got washed up, bandaged up and all those good things. I'm out one pair of pants, got some blood everywhere, lost more skin than I do on a usual day, got a little asphalt ground into my hand, but all told it really could have been worse. Even though I was still physically shaking from the shock of it, I thoroughly enjoyed watching the Jackie Chan film "The Myth", which to my surprise was partially set at a bunch of ruins I visited in Hampi, and also features a scene in which Jackie Chan is forced to rip a hot Indian woman's skirt off to save her life. A note to aspiring filmmakers: when you are faced with the question, "Should my film have a hot Indian woman or a hot Chinese woman?", 'The Myth' shows us that the answer can be "Why not both?"

So that, my friends, is what it is like to get hit by a bus. I am a fountain of information. And hemoglobin.