The tremble of the train around me is familliar. In rythm with the train I sway side to side in my seat.Theres a sense of ease I feel watching the landscape dart past my eyes. The image runs past my eye, blurring into one mass.

On one point in the horizon I settle my gaze.

I lose myself- alone in that train car. My focus only attuned to the scenery outside. The same buildings I've watched every morning and night. But I don't tire from this image. I embrace the familiarity of the city before me.

How long would I need to absorb the observable before I become a part of it too? Or does the ever growing distance on this train absolve me from this connection. I imagine a self that leaves the platform and runs far into the city. To become a melted of that blurred landscape always running past. A version of myself true to my every whim, allowing me to break from my life. Allowing me true freedmon.

But in all honesty, I don't have the energy to take this on. My bones ache for my bed and a pillow to rest my head.

. . .