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public transit fleeting past windows glimpsing into peoples lives for seconds at a time silhouetted against a darkening sky a freeze frame of an intricate positions you will never recognize windows into situations you will never be a part of your breath fogs the glass with curiosity you are a figure in the background you are not even an afterthought emotions criss cross across the city similar to the spiderweb of lights that draw out a map from above eye contact with strangers feels intimate all of these separate beings -disconnected thoughts -disconnected feelings -stories tightly bound to their bodies it's a casual nod while flicking a cigarette to the ground stomping through slush laden sidewalks passing open windows where music pours into empty streets there is something so vulnerable about this place possible missed connections paralyze you into avoiding interactions 3am train rides on abandoned cars feel romantic with your headphones on a sea of anonymous faces the collective nothing momentary blurs of unfamiliar rooms, searching for something you can relate to someone to feel the same your counterpoint just to know that while surrounded by so many living breathing messes you are not alone nobody has it as together as they think they do.
0
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 7:19 PM UTC
this city is for voyeurs
public transit fleeting past windows glimpsing into peoples lives for seconds at a time silhouetted against a darkening sky a freeze frame of an intricate positions you will never recognize windows into situations you will never be a part of your breath fogs the glass with curiosity you are a figure in the background you are not even an afterthought emotions criss cross across the city similar to the spiderweb of lights that draw out a map from above eye contact with strangers feels intimate all of these separate beings -disconnected thoughts -disconnected feelings -stories tightly bound to their bodies it's a casual nod while flicking a cigarette to the ground stomping through slush laden sidewalks passing open windows where music pours into empty streets there is something so vulnerable about this place possible missed connections paralyze you into avoiding interactions 3am train rides on abandoned cars feel romantic with your headphones on a sea of anonymous faces the collective nothing momentary blurs of unfamiliar rooms, searching for something you can relate to someone to feel the same your counterpoint just to know that while surrounded by so many living breathing messes you are not alone nobody has it as together as they think they do.
allainst
Written by
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 7:19 PM UTC
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