I don't remember what made me get on this train. I think I was just lost, probably hoping to start something new. I approached the clerk and said, "one ticket to the farthest destination I can get to." Or at least that's what I think I said. But who really cares why someone sets off, its really how you get there that matters. Life is a distance between two points. Birth and death, how you draw that line is the crucial, most significant part, don't you agree. And now, I'm sitting on this nice velvet seat with my feet up on the seat in front of me and I'm just enjoying the ride. How long have I been on this train anyway? Oh, who really cares.
I was born to get away from it all. They only held you back, that's why I didn't tell anyone I was leaving. Actually, it was sparatic on my part. No planning had been done what so ever. That's why my last girlfriend had gotten rid of me. I told her I had quit my job and she went bonkers. I mean, literally, she started bouncing off the walls. She said something about me being "unreliable" and that I needed to "grow up." I showed her the middle finger and we parted ways. A very undramatic part may I add and if she hadn't thrown my things out of our 2nd floor apartment window like a stereotypical psycho bitch, it would have been almost forgettable. But I do remember and maybe it's partially why I'm on this train.
I'd decided once and for all to leave this miserable city I'd called home for 95 percent of my life. I was born in winnipeg and that's where I'd spent the other five percent. Just imagine yourself living in one single place your whole life. I can't. That's why I'm taking off. But maybe I should have said something to my mom before leaving. Well, there's no use wondering about it now. We weren't that close anyways. She was constantly bickering about my father who deceased when I was eleven. She had taken a liking to one of my high school teachers and I suppose I never forgave her for making me the end of so many cruel jokes. We never spoke much about anything. She was always working anyways. I guess this is a good time to explain why I had quit my job. It was the people I worked with. The most irritating individuals you will ever meet. This one girl, Julie, constantly crying over the phone. She might as well have the phone surgically attached to her ears and have the number 3 key speedial to produce tears. I would sit in front of my desk, simply tending to my work and sirens of cries would penetrate my thoughts. How many times I've fantasized about strangling that bitch: (17 times) including the one time at our christmas party.
Maybe I'm just not a people-person. I don't like them. Given, I am one but frankly, I don't like myself sometimes either. Okay, all the time. Is that why I'm on this train? All alone, talking to myself? How long have I been on this train for anyway?
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