Train, Train, Go Away.

first time for everything, except buttsex. that's a no-no.

so this'll be an early foray into "artistic expression". it'll be a way to integrate a lot of functions and forms that i particularly like, such as hip-hop, older pop culture, and the life journey i go through, even if it's not over-laden with work and parties.

what i noticed primarily from last night is that folks were always tryin to say something else, to draw something bigger, to grab the message between the lines. i recognize the validity of that in order to increase the content and importance of a piece, but stimes, like Freud said, "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar". stimes, we have to know that simplicity and what we see may simply be what it is, and not every adventure has to be one of epic proportions.

and so on that particular note, here is the start of what may be a collision course into ridicule, lulz, triumph, or massive clutter of the internets.

Train, Train, Go Away
=====================
Back on the train tonight, as many nights before.
Where did my journey take place this time? What purpose did I have to leave my place called home, to travel to unknown regions far and inconvenient?
Those questions in the grand scheme of things-irrelevant, for the reflection of those events that matter more.

Few if any folks are in this car, and even fewer were at the station.
We pull up to a more populated locale, and seats start to fill up.
Many a person here now, and their existence as temporary appearances intrigue me.
What is their story? Why are they here? Who are they, and what are they wanting?

Their clothes, their behavior, their language and speech, give us a clue.
Incomplete, or inaccurate it may be, but our faculties can only assume otherwise.
Above all, what catches my eye are ironically enough their eyes.
Windows to the soul, hypnotic and alluring, objects of beauty, but as they say, roses have thorns too.
They tell me the truth; the furrow of the brow in confusion and contemplation, the redirect showing disgust and disdain, the quick glance noticing the nice body part of the minute; these mere commonalities of action remind me how human we really are.

As i pan out, regather my thoughts, collaborate the stories, i notice tonight something different, something more pressing than ever before.
That patrons of the train are together drawn, in a big tin can, with wheels and science.
People are placed together involuntarily, setting apart small differences in order to travel to their final destinations.
We are interlocked and subjected, humbled to the same forces, unified in our desires to get somewhere, anywhere even.

Then i realize that a train is a perfect phallic representation.
The classic example; this vessel does enter long dark tunnels.
Even more so are these people; men and women of different lineages, nations and generations.
They are the seed of life, spreading forth far and wide, fulfilling the purpose they know, their own telos.
The stations are the recipient receptacle; indeed this train comes and goes.

Mind blowing as it is, I cannot indulge in thought any longer.
My own time has come, my departure is now imminent.
I as one of many, now javascript:void(0)returning to their own base.
Escape now I have from that mental prison, that mob on roller skates.
Until I reach the bus...