Pains, Trains & Autopilot

On the train, you see their pains, autopilot-default-down mode.

When I was a student I would look around at the people on the train as I wrote in my journal and wonder, why is everyone looking so sad? 

And then as the years went on, I slowly realised why, because now I felt it to. Some days I don’t want to labour my life away, to use all of your creativity, logic and social powers for the benefit of your workplace rather than a purpose, and for what? The illusion of security that a job comes with, the trap with sweets that lure you in.

But dollars will not make your life fulfilled, they don’t make you feel proud of yourself in the late evening or at night. Remember that we don’t need much, we need food, water, shelter and people, we do not need new clothes, classes or cars, it’s all an illusion of sweetness to keep you tied to your desk.

Born to serve, not born to email.

The passengers are more auto than the pilot, the screen is like a Pacifier for play-less adults.

Maybe it’s just that everyone thinks about their problems when they’re on the train. Or avoids thinking

Statement: And now months, the pain has deepened, and in this moment you know your spark has dwindled, your zest for life is gone, or perhaps just for this one. Cynical? I think I am. I never thought I would be. I never thought I'd be who I am right now. When did I become so critical? Why?

Response: Whatever that was about it passed, now you don’t even remember when that was or why it was.

A bus that isn’t depressed, the bus on the way back from Kanyanyapilla with FORMS.

At other times, it’s completely euphoric, a train of transcendence, a moment with music and morning sun, it brings me to tears.

“You aren’t who you thought you were, you just aren’t that person and in this very lifetime you can know it.”

Transport is an eternal practice.