My spelling may be off a lil bit. Who knows what auto correct will do. These words after a few pints as I whiddle away the time heading back towards Stafford from Manchester Picaddily. I think I spelled that right even though I’m seeing double and coordination takes a lot of effort. Words seem to slowly slot into place though. One word after another.
I broke my seal earlier tonight. When I entered the train I decided I should ease the pressure. I don’t understand how people could get themselves to the state where they would have to subject people to the sight that I just saw. What was once contained inside was all over the floor. It’s been there for a while I don’t blame them. I held my breath but it hasn’t been the worst smell or sight that I’ve ever seen or well I’ll let you inhale the smell of rotting flesh or fat digesting in the summer months. Still I held my breath and excreted I wouldn’t want to be a girl it’s disgusting as it is.
I met up with my mate he took a train this time so we visited more places and had quite a few more beers. I keep thinking about the keyboard influencing my speech. Studies have shown preference for certain words correlating handedness with a pattern of thought. City lights pass outside as I type these words. Stockport’s our first stop only three more to go. Skinny girls off on the distance clobber into the waiting room and find a seat. Our train pulls away the Persian gets louder off in the distance. The guy behind me is watching some show. The woman to my right is engrossed in her screen, the smooth increase in speed lulls one to sleep.
Moments spent engrossed in adult conversation, about what’s been on my mind, our plans, changes, without pause. Vagabonds, our lives have been on the road. Constantly moving, constantly on the road. When I look outside now I just see a reflection of me. It’s dark so the glass acts as a mirror reflecting the light coming from the inside. The chairs half empty pints hitting my mind. Every once in a while this is ok. Although I feel it now that we’re moving at speed. The acceleration presses down on my gut. An increase of G-forces causes me to feel as if I’d wanna explode. My ears feel the pressure as we enter a tunnel. It causes its own kind of sensation. We are moving quite fast. Wait let me capture this speed.
Oh well. What can you do. I should have started before when I was stopped at the station. Technology is still so far away from where we need it to be. It’s great don’t get me wrong. I love to be able to tap away as I move down the line on a train towards my destination. But the app should have recorded my speed and displayed it. That’s what I got it for. Can’t it get built into maps? Ain’t it smart enough to do that or should it require an extra app?
I cough we shared a smoke. The first time we did that in all of that time. Strange as that may seem. We also saw a bit more of the city. A bit more of the artwork that seems to be all about. This is the north, north of the south, the south being the place that all the fuss is about. The politics, the panic, the prices as well as deceit. It’s politics and money, power grabbing propaganda and all those connotations that come with being the host of a global city. One that gets all the press, where everyone wants to impress. You get chewed on and spat on if you don’t do your best. That’s not really the case. It’s that it’s hard to survive on the wage. The rent’s through the roof. I’d live in a closet. I’d be cursing myself.
The north, the rest of the country. Like the prairies they have their own culture. Their own way of doing things. The buildings look different, they have their own subtle shape. Their own little difference that makes this their own kind of style. Their own flavor, something to be proud of. Something to celebrate a place to shine bright.
Stone, I’m only in Stone. There is a bit further to go. So I pulled out my tablet and proceeded to play with it tapping away. The lady that sat beside me probably forgot her glasses case in the seat. I’d grab it but it should stay there until the very end. One of the ticket guys will pick it up if not one of the cleaners. You’d hope. The Persian conversations go loud then go quiet all of a sudden. It’s as if those guys had a few drinks and are all going home. England’s a great melting pot of various cultures. There is a vein of prejudice just like in the states. But for the most part most are agreeable to foreign people making their home here on these shores. There is also a pride in the “English” way. The land has survived through many invasions as well as many foreign escapades.
I’ll stop now. 😐😀