Rives

this is something of a malnurished train of thought flowing through the station with out stopping, the passangers are starting to worry, that was their stop. it seems the train is speeding up, but is this as fast as a thoguht can go? oviously not. the ratteling in the seats is getting unsettling, a few, of the more resighned pasengers pick up their glasses, sip their brandy and think of all the naked bodes they can possibly imagine knowing, they are going to die. now i think its worth noteing, that even though malnurished, this thought is growing stronger, resisting gravity fighting off the wind and friction that should be grinding to to a hault. this train isnt fueld with coal or oil, its bure manic unstable and slightly depresed personality flaws that are sending this rage drawn carrige to its inevitable end. the passangers aboard this train are pleading with the man at the door for any chance of salvation. for survival is simply, they must simply be heard. therese are the ideas, images, and creations that need only see light, and feel the crisp or humic air of the world from which these trains are made to find a new root... a new seed, a new train. thats all they need, once they find there breath, on their station, its only then that they can mix and breed with all the others, to form entierly new existances and compell them selves to places their train never even knew it could go.
distraction.
train of thought derailed.