Some days I sit at the train station and pretend I am someone else. Everything is dully colored by the graying sky yet vibrantly staying vivid before my eyes. The passing trains transporting passengers, day to day, in the core of its system. A monster, a saviour, nothing, whichever you choose it to be. That is it. Its metallic surfaces colliding with the brutal rails, whinning and cringing its fixed despair. It is a beautiful day, you know? A day just the same as yesterday yet more aflame from the one before. Just like any other day. People going by and never coming back. There is not a minute in the world that is the same, each second more important than the last. Humanity, however, has neglected and forgotten the simplest joys of living, the tend to go by simply existing; thriving. Who cares? Nothing changes, things always in the same static time line of life.
It is december, a personal favourite, yet people mechanically function to the rhythm of ballads from the clock; tick tock, it goes. Entranced, subjected, loosing the spark of life. And now a second is a whisper, a minute but a yawn, and days, months and years the buzzing of a smart phone.
What really matters anymore?
The terrible train buzzing and rumbling the earth with its tremors; going on a fixed position. It is a carrier, another synthetic creation of the human "power". Now, we [consider ourselves] are nothing. Outsiders to our homes. My perception of the world affected by this so-called "evolutionary era".
Of what?
Well, social divergency, the rusting metal and the beeping notices on lighted screens. Apathetic and analytic.
Creating more problems and solving but one.