Monday, May 26, 2008

Train (working title) - excerpt

Riding the train into the city, I wish I could deem it hopping and that city was in fact Chicago, while peering out the window I realized a perilous summation of the human condition reconciled only by the momentous decisions one must make in the face of continual adversary. The feelings of fears and failed wants, the latter never coming to fruition while the former never falters, rode within my soul like an unwelcome passenger in a compartment already packed passed capacity. In any traveling manner, and a commuter train is a hopping mad predicament, the window is the only means for a traveler to project thoughts and desires onto the outside world they have been set apart from. This vantage point, by which I mean a helpless state of observing without action, one is left to ponder reality as it is compared with delusions of what they had hoped it’d be, or for that matter they’d be. And as I gestured out past the pain of glass secluding me from the enveloping environment it occurred to me that the unused train tracks were a development of the plight of human nature. The tracks twisting and converging, careening through each other as people would throughout a lifetime. Certain tracks run aground on the edges of the path, their endings beginning to show an overgrowth of wild grass and weeds denoting their uselessness to society. Tracks drunk on a confused direction intermingling like conversations during the social hour, inevitably leaving some shucked to the side like the moments with those that had eluded me. These tracks are left forgotten, though once they were useful, you can still see them sitting idly and unused by the world that passes them daily. It was at this moment I realized I would not permit myself to be cast aside as an unused husk. A seldom chosen track that merely sustains the weeds and facets of mundane life, a track that would normally be left to be covered up by the brush that hides it’s worth.

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