In a rushing train and outside the window is motion preaching beauty. Two men opposite of me are discussing the price of fish. It’s gone up, like everything has, they say. ‘The sea is right there,’ the other one remarks and clicks his long fingernail against the glass. Next to him dark pinetrees breathe and blur under sparkling snow as the landscape swells.
So many trains and planes and ships and ferries and math and movement. Funny how after awhile it all gets simplified into permutations. In Stockholm now. Then Tallinn. Then the warm limbo of a bus. Then the next and on and on. I’m finishing my degree and then going and getting the next one. No breaks. Gotta hustle. And I’m happy and I get scared of happy. I’m scared of stalling out. I’m scared of being ‘content’.
You kinda need that pebble in your shoe, don’t you?
Can’t believe I’m going back to London.