I could just drop off the face of the world. I could get off this train and never go back to anywhere I've ever been before. But I won't. Maybe someone would miss me, or someone would be hurt, I'm sure. I don't want that. I thought about this as I walked, in an old sweater, through relentless grey drizzle before six in the morning, and I began groundlessly grinning, as if I were walking down the aisle. I was on my way to mount a train and embark upon the monotonous commute to a job I need but don't want, to work toward a profession I may not ever achieve. But somehow I don't seem to mind. I've affixed an artificial facade of contentedness to my mindlessness, and for whatever reason, I can't help but enjoy it. I could drop off the face of the world, but instead I smile in the rain and stay on the train.