I hear the rattling of the tracks as the train passes through, playing with the wind, piercing it through. It seems like piercing through me too, drawing familiar memories from the past just trying to eke out a space within me. It seems like a journey which was never to be, always beckons me, always calls out to me, holds out a hand and I see myself running after it in the hope that sometime I would be able to catch it. But it always out paces me, it travels fast than my memory, my imagination and my impersonation of the future.
During times like these I always imagine the people, on board of the train, what would they be like, what hopes and aspirations do they carry within, what makes them take this journey?Perhaps a beloved awaiting for a reunion, a mourning, a search for new vistas of meaning or perhaps to begin life anew, to deny hunger and the spaces which it occupies around , or the need to exile oneself from the memories and the decadence one felt around the spaces one occupied or just an aimless instinct of the traveller to reunite with the beauty of the world which surrounds.
During times like these I always imagine the people, on board of the train, what would they be like, what hopes and aspirations do they carry within, what makes them take this journey?Perhaps a beloved awaiting for a reunion, a mourning, a search for new vistas of meaning or perhaps to begin life anew, to deny hunger and the spaces which it occupies around , or the need to exile oneself from the memories and the decadence one felt around the spaces one occupied or just an aimless instinct of the traveller to reunite with the beauty of the world which surrounds.
nice:)
ReplyDeleteI love being on the train, it gives me hope. It makes you feel life, it gives you a sense that things are happening, that the only place you're going is not just the destination where you train is bound..