Some will say this has a depressed vibe. Read at your own discretion.
As much as I dare myself to dream, life is but a train ride. A declared beginning of your first cry until your last breath. Whatever is in between is a matter of choice, some of which you control, some you do not. It's the equivalent of deciding your train ride before going to your destination.
You can decide the stops, changing along the way from one train to another to get to the stops you want but inevitably you will face a roadblock that might force the train into switching rails and for which you have no control over. It's ok. You can readjust, reasses, cry at the next train station, but then you have to get back on or otherwise linger at the station, stopped and with no way forward.
It's a crafted system, predefined rails we try so hard to step out of only to find ourselves back on them and discovering that the train track we are so desperately looking for already exists. Seventeen stations away and two trains back. But it's ok. Because our destination is all the same.
Yet some will argue that they paid first class, some will even ride a private train, and some will share their space with those in need. Whoever you are quite frankly doesn't matter for anyone else but you because we'll all end in the same pit at the end of it. Whether you think you have control over your choice of pit, I'll let you dream. It isn't illegal.
Those I want to talk about are those who reek of death on that train. Those like me. Those that don't actively seek death but that see the end and wonder how much train ride they have left until they get there. Those that unfortunately are stuck in a train and notice the difference between that and any other means of transportation.
You see, the train windows don't open. And when you are born on the train, you can not exist anywhere else than at a station. Which means there are no outs. If you do not like the choices in front of you, you still have to take one or chance staying at a station, alone, cold, or forgotten.
By the time you wait at that station, you'll be dying to get back in just so you won't feel that crushing need that prevents loneliness. And while you want the train ride to be over because it frustrates you, you're never quite lonely enough to do the only thing that will get you an express ride to the pit.
So you keep choosing. The least pitiful option. Sometimes you get a joy and the train switches track and it's enough to make you forget about the destination. Other times, you regret being on this train, but you took the express, and now you can't get off for at least five stations.
Slowly, you realise... you were never the conductor of that train.
And somehow you can't be.
Don't get me wrong, this isn't a cry for help or for any kind of attention. Just a mere realization that choice is for the adventure because the destination never changes. I've taken a stop at a station for a while, and it's time for me to get back on, but knowing all that... I wish to find some excited souls on my next train so that I, too, may once again dream of the perfect train ride without thinking of what lies ahead.
I pick my ride by the people, not the stops, and it makes my selection just a little harder.
