9th April 2009

In all chatter.
The whispers and laughter of a group somewhere behind me.
The person who was originally in front of me has disappeared.
A satisfying lunch settles in my stomach and I think,
What shall I do when I get home?
Is it that I must work to keep on living?
Is it that my laptop needs energy to stay on?
Is it that my dog needs food to survive?
Is it that my friends need me to hold on to?
How many times must I ask myself,
     and how many times can I keep going without having to feel
     the pain that comes from my feet.
     From walking an endless walk,
     from strolling an endless stroll.

I try to set my feelings to a certain degree,
hold on to my dreams and never let go.
I try to feel the blood rushing through my feet again,
     feel the warmth,
     enhance my strength.
     Rub the soles of my feet,
     for a new journey.

What is it that I should do to make sure I still have you?
Do I have to keep on living, holding on, taking care of myself?
It has been a beautiful day.
The sun is still in the sky, and for reasons I don’t know why,
we keep on rolling.

I see a small house to my right, larger ones to my left.
Should we ever live together?

A plastic bottle rolls down the aisle of the train.
Am I nearly there?
I feel hungry, and a little bored.
I want to go home; I don’t want to work.
I’d rather be with you, and hear your voice,
     instead of feeling myself move and jolt,
     instead of hearing things,
     hearing voices.

I can still hear the chatter that makes a layer of air compress
     and the warmth and uneasiness that comes by when I feel
     the train move.
     Faster, and faster.

If I keep going, I’m sure.
I can stay the same, for quite a while.
Then I can change.
When I am ready.