Friday, December 12, 2008
The 8:05
I have often found myself wondering, as the morning train pulls in
where exactly I am going and where it is that I have been.
For some it's about the journey, and for some the destination.
But surely it all depends, on the arrival station.
Is this where I thought I'd be, when I hopped onboard this morning
or has my trip been diverted, unbeknownst and without warning?
Have I been in control, of this journey I have made?
Or am I just an actor, and it's been a part I've played?
Who is the fat controller, whom dictates where I go?
And why is that the trip, is always so painstakingly slow?
Should I take an express, or another faster train?
But what am I trying to skip, through pleasure or through pain?
Would my life be different, if it involved another station?
Or would it be no more then a subtle variation?
I guess I'll never know, instead I'll just ride the 8:05,
It's not the most glamorous trip, but imagine if I had to drive!
Written in the summer of 2006, while an intern on the way to my first real job.
where exactly I am going and where it is that I have been.
For some it's about the journey, and for some the destination.
But surely it all depends, on the arrival station.
Is this where I thought I'd be, when I hopped onboard this morning
or has my trip been diverted, unbeknownst and without warning?
Have I been in control, of this journey I have made?
Or am I just an actor, and it's been a part I've played?
Who is the fat controller, whom dictates where I go?
And why is that the trip, is always so painstakingly slow?
Should I take an express, or another faster train?
But what am I trying to skip, through pleasure or through pain?
Would my life be different, if it involved another station?
Or would it be no more then a subtle variation?
I guess I'll never know, instead I'll just ride the 8:05,
It's not the most glamorous trip, but imagine if I had to drive!
Written in the summer of 2006, while an intern on the way to my first real job.
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