Let's Take a Train Ride to Anywhere

Let's take a train ride to anywhere and when we get there we won't know where we are and we won't care. We'll find a coffee café and drink some espressos and lounge in the chairs outside, and maybe have a cigarette. We'll converse for a while and then sit quietly because we don't need words to fill the spaces between us and we'll just breathe in the moment and then breathe it out. I'll smile at you and you'll wink back and then we'll have a laugh, realizing that several hours have passed and it's time to be on our way. We'll get back on that train and maybe doze a little bit to the rhythmic turnings of the wheels on the tracks and when we finally arrive, we'll collapse on the couch and dream of future train rides, together and apart.

If I Knew Where I Was Going

If I knew where I was going, I’d stop reading maps like they hold some special secret. I’d realize that they guide people toward a destination and not just away from themselves and I’d stop blaming physical boundaries and distance for all of my problems. I’d accept that the reason I always feel stuck is because I’m too afraid to cross the rivers and mountains that I’ve built up between myself and the people around me, between my actions and my ambitions, my muscles and my mind.

If I Knew Where I Was Going | Thought Catalog

Unconditional Love

Unconditional love is a puppy (whether it is two months or twelve years old). When they let you blow in their face or take their paws to make them dance or mummy wrap them in blankets or pull on their ears, without so much as a snip or a bark; when you leave them for hours or days or months at a time and every time you come back, they're just as happy to see you; when you neglect them and forget to take them on a walk, but they don't have the capacity to hold a grudge; when they follow all your ridiculous commands and put up with your teasing just to get a treat and give you kisses just as soon as your face is in reach - that's love. Unconditional love is man's best friend.

Going Home, Away From Home

You’ve done this before, of course, many a time switching back and forth between lives, always leaving something behind as you embrace the new old. A balance would be ideal, but like a straight line or an arrow, your starting point rarely matches your target. So which life is the real one? Who are you? Where is home? Are you the person you left behind, or the person you’re going back to? And if both those Yous should ever meet, will the two different sides of that equation equal who you are now? Or has one side won out?

Going Home, Away From Home | Thought Catalog