Have you ever felt like going on a train ride? Sitting by the window, gazing into the fields and sky, with a book by your side that you pick up only after you’ve had enough of the countryside scenery?

Have you ever felt like going on a train ride to nowhere?

Or maybe it’s the bus. Have you ever sat by the window seat, your headphones playing your favourite song, nodding along, utterly oblivious to the pockets of conversation around you, yet drawn deep into the emotions your favourite song stirs within you?

Have you ever felt like going on a bus ride to nowhere?

I feel like that sometimes. I want to take a long train ride to nowhere, to be constantly in motion, listening to music, reading a book, maybe even talking to a stranger I meet on the train. A flirty smile here, a wink there, a light touch that sends a spark through my veins. Maybe we exchange numbers. Maybe we don’t. Maybe there’s a goodbye kiss. Maybe there isn’t.

It’s like Schrödinger’s cat — the possibility hovers, unresolved.

Or maybe it never happens, and I’m just curled up in bed, wrapped in my blanket, wondering what adventure might be waiting out there.

Sometimes, I think it isn’t the journey I crave but the freedom that comes with it; the sense of being untethered, unobserved, undefined. On a train or a bus, I can simply exist. No one expects anything. No one knows who I am or what I should be. I can just be a person in motion, a blur against the window, moving through a world that doesn’t ask for explanations.

Maybe that’s why I find peace in the thought of going nowhere. Because for a few fleeting hours, I wouldn’t need to have a destination. I wouldn’t need to know what’s next. I could just watch the world pass by, and for once, let it move without me.

Song of the day: “Constellations” by “Jade Lemac”

|Wandering Helen