one way journey

I wrote the rough ideas for this on my phone on the way back from somewhere that involved a large amount of trains in a large amount of differnt directions and jus tnever got round to writing it up so here is the piece that has been hidden on my phone for

Sitting on a train watching the world trot by not really concentrating on much at all but my thoughts, and the happy little pictures conjoured up by my childish imagination. A train truddles by opposite mine, a flood of people , a heard of lives filter endlessly past until the last carrage.  I wonder if people have ever sat here and wondered about all those people, about how many unimportant moments these people leave in our minds. Innocent conversations overheard by a curious ear, a husband on the phone to his wife asking what's for a dinner. A caring farther hand locked with his young daughter attempting to explain the multi-coloured lines of tube map on a little piece of paper she cluctches with her other hand, her face filled with short attentioned curisoity. A drunken ramble of footy fans, chanting like a bunch of school children. The differnt aray of couples, some happy some angry, some locked in lovers embraces, and the tearful heartbroken lover sitting on there own watching in awe and jealously at what there fellow human counterparts have, longing to feel teh kiss of the one they love gently agasint there lips once more. The tearful, the tired, the dreamers, thinkers creators all sitting alongside each other in this metal container.

Looking around you can almost image some of the conversations or occurance that are unfolding, a young lad playing video games ignoarant to his farthers pointless rants about the weather. A lonely looking fella in a long brown coat , hunched over a newspaper leaning , leaning gently agasint the window behind him. The woman across the way a strong red head glancing tenderly in his direction wondering if perhaps she should brave a hello a quick flirt but the code of silence sticks strong and he will never kno of her adoring eyes.

I find it almost funny just how many lives we have the possiblity of touching on such a simple journey. I stare hopelessly at an attractive lad across the carrage from me, i wont speak to him of course just look. I live in london its a transport code of conduct we all subconciously follow , you only talk to people you kno unless of course your elderly and dont quite follow the new laws and regulations we lay down, or just clinnically insane. The most of just sit there silently and watch the world drift by with our headphones jammed neatly into our ears.

I wonder if the man next to me is a banker, a lowyer or even an actor, not that i could possibly have anyway of knowing just wonderings sake. Mabye ive travelled on a train with any of these poeple before, just never seen them been on a differnt carrage to them, perhaps ive been brushed past these commuters as ive gone about my daily buisness.  Never gave them a second thougth after a polite "sorry, or excuse me".  Aimlessly i conisder the small possiblity that ive effected any of these people's lives in anyway.

Another train charges past the window, this time travelling in the same direction as us. I watch it until it parts parths and truddles off down another track at an invisible interestection i cant quite see from inside the train, and let it go on its merry way taking the indavdulas inside it to there each specific locations.

The sound of the metal upon metal as the wheels roll endlessly over and over the tracks mapped out for miles and crafted to avoid even the smallest hiccup, derailement, accident , death. The constant mind shattering rattling that most drown out with our ear pieces.

Each and everyone of us so phyiscally close but so mentally distant. Glancing at the same adverts as the train pulls to stop, touched by the same pictures all across the carridge.

I glance to my right and witness a sneaky kiss between one of those perfect couples, there eyes lighting up with nothing but each others smile. The girl teasing her lover gently , making him wince and wiggle with a sudden uncontrable lust he knows will not be satisfied.

I sit where surely millions have sat before me, possibly someone iv emet, possibly some i kno very well. Then of course the thousands of strangers who's arse's have also brushed this seat, the strangers that perhaps ill meet one day or perhaps i never will. Distracted momentarily by a foot tapper across the way his head bobbing eargly to the his music.

As i step thru the repetive cycle of the opening and closing doors, my eyes befall the piles of disgared newspapers littered from left to right along the station. Clapham common station and i am home.

Author's Note

its not great i kno just something i wrote