I sit with my eyes closed, further buffered from brightness by the hat pulled down to my nose. I travel in my hangover, it's rudder takes me in this direction and that.
My perception is unreliable, bringing moments of surreality. This train travels in a fairly determined line, I wish it was on an eternal curve I could lean into. Perhaps circling a mountain, just one track in a perfect imperfect circle.
The track sings with friction, one high monotone. I open my eyes to see through the wooly holes of hat. The man next to me rustles his paper for some long period of time. The moment makes me think for a moment that I may be in some early 1980's horror flick, something like the Omen.
And then the next minute I realise how perfect a day, to be travelling on a train through the beauty of country Scotland. All day. And the fluidity of a hangover.
So listen Ladies and Gents, I have all sorts of things to say to all of you. I want to reply to the stuff you all put in my head and make me think. So I will, tomorrow. I just don't want you all to think me rude.
And beside any of that, there is more to tell from this weekend. Tomorrow.
VIEW 11 of 11 COMMENTS
perdy:
Oh it's just my job.....people break kids....I pick up the pieces......can get a bit harrowing.....behaviour gets normalized....then you realize that you're just not really shockable anymore....that's all
tarqu1n:
It's always good to read your musings and photos. I paused on suggesting one reads a photo as it doesn't sound right but I think for some photos you do have to read them.