time, time on my hands
lyrics to an old song
I do not even know
how I remember
vestby train station
I've sat here so many times
numerous
waiting
waiting for trains and buses
to go to work
to go to norsk language lessons
to go home
mornings, afternoons, nights
late nights
-
this night, friday
drunk
like the good old times
alone
-
outside, the air is cold
yet no snow
only wet sidewalks
and streets
kerouac memories
a party left to go on somewhere
what more is there to this life
in this world
just remember friends...
...forget the interruptions
the disturbances of human kind
thoughtless and careless
rude? perhaps?
what's next?
where to go from here? or
what now?
-
left alone.
Originally penned in the Winter of 2011, in Norway. Written at the Vestby train station while waiting for the train to go home on a late Friday night after drinking some brews with friends and co-workers from the mall where I work. From journal book number Four.
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