#Scurf142: journeys

a chonky clutch of wordy nothings

Write about trains

Travelling in them

Write about trains. Being in them. Sleeping in them. Not sleeping in them. Kissing behind close loo doors. Eating the stale pantry food. Finding comfort in watching town after town whizz by, especially at night when everyone’s asleep and you’re alone with that last one thought. Write about writing on trains. How the noise adds to the rhythm. The cadence of just being on the train. And how it lends a certain amount of beauty to the experience of scribbling. On the mundanity of writing while on a journey. The excitement that hides behind the writing. Write about the quietness of writing while travelling in a train. Write about the vanity of writing on trains. About the childhood dream of wanting to travel with friends. And then living through it over and over again and a young adult and then an adult. Of pining to find one’s love while on a train. But finding way too many lovers that took you together on a train journey. Of mischievous train makeouts. And sneaky hand brushes. Those lonesome stares. After which came avoidance and cold shoulders. All the stages of loving crossed in one eleven hour train journey. Write about how no one train journey changed you. And yet how all of them did. Write about meeting with lovers and their towns or cities through trains. Stepping foot on the platform of their hometown just for the blip of 35 seconds to kiss them goodbye. Write about how the air felt light that May morning and how ensnared you’d been. Write about the hefty packages of love you carried from your hometown to all the places you worked, studied, lived and loved in. Cities that we’re always too far off. Towns in states far and wide where there all spoke in alien languages. Write about the thrill you felt while on them

And why you chose to go that distance always that distance

Write about the journeys you made with pervs and lovers alike