Saturday 11 May 2013

You live by the train station.


You live by the train station, you told me in idle passing one gloomy afternoon. It was all I could think about as we sat on your bed, looking through photos of your childhood. The rumble of the mechanical snake that runs through the city shook your walls with each flip of the page, and obnoxiously bellowed out its arrival- disrupting your sad, reminiscent smile that asked for it all back.

I looked up in fear, half expecting aliens or bombs or rabid animals let loose throughout your house, but you must’ve grown so used to it, you didn’t even notice your bedroom trembling. As the glass bottles of sand rattled away among your travel collections of little volcanic elephants, you kept naming out each face in the old photographs, introducing me to people from your past, injecting short stories in between the pages. You were the eye of the storm- perfectly centered and oblivious to the chaos around you.

You’re all I can think of now, whenever I wait patiently in line for the train. I wonder if at that moment you are happily absorbed in your photographs of yesteryear, sprawled out on your bed, smiling sadly at all the faces that are no longer here. I wonder how I can time my departures, so you feel that it’s me bellowing past, making your walls shake, making your bedroom tremble. Do you think if you try hard enough, you could recognize me in the chaos?

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

Beautifully written, as always! You really take no details for granted and craft your writing around things that other people would simply dismiss. You are truly talented! Keep it up.

Liz said...

This is amazing. I think I would love to live next to a train - I guess one can usually get used to anything.

Anonymous said...

This is beautiful. Where do you usually get inspiration?

Joanna said...

"Inspired by ghostly photographs, soulful music, certain sounds, questioning expressions and flashes of memory." :)

I draw inspiration from fleeting emotions. Like that split-second of familiarity when you're standing around doing the most boring thing.

This post was inspired when I was waiting for the train to arrive, and I thought of my boyfriend who lives near the train station. I wondered if he knew I was on that train that was passing by his house, if he was sitting on his bed, ignoring the walls shaking, not realizing that I play a role in the microsystem that makes him feel those vibrations .. it's a funny thing to think about.

Anonymous said...

I like the way you think. I never knew that you wrote from personal experiences. I've been reading through your blog, and I also wanted to write the way you do, but I can never find what to write about. I can't imagine some scenarios well enough to write about or describe them.

I hope you continue to write with honesty. It's lovely.

AVY said...

I've always loved the sound of trains passing by, but not being on them.

/Avy

http://mymotherfuckedmickjagger.blogspot.com

Joanna said...

Anonymous, you make me very happy. :3

Anonymous said...

Sort of jealous of this new Anon, hahaha! Your fan base just keeps growing! :D

Anonymous said...

So incredibly heartfelt. I gather such conflicting emotions it's hard not to be moved by this! <3

Anonymous said...

Do you commute, Joanna?