Trains of Thought

It must have been easier to write a long time ago, when the only prerequisites for literature were a cohesive idea and the motivation to focus on a piece of paper and physically pen your words. Now, it’s ironically more difficult. I can type, and I’m doing it now, with my eyes off the keyboard, off the screen even. And now I’ve lost my train of thought. See?

Trains.

I’m on a train right now. Bay Area Rapid Transit. It’s a monorail-type thing. The clouds are threatening to pee on us soon, but I have moving shelter. The clouds aren’t the only threat-thing. What’s a word that means “someone who makes a threat?” We need a more common word for that. Threatener/threatenor/threater? Those don’t look right. It looks too much like “theater,” although I suppose an argument could be made that theater is a bluff for reality. It could also be a buffer-reality, a reality that links our imagination to the physical world. Or it could be a bluff, only threaten at being reality, but never being it.

I like facing backwards on a train. I am always seeing exactly where I just was a moment before. If we claim that we live in a dimension, then it must have coordinates. So when I look at the guy right in front of me while I’m sitting on a train facing backwards, I can say that he is literally where I just was a moment ago. He is now occupying the space I just occupied, and is continuing to occupy all the spaces I just occupy. It’s true with a lot of moving things, but it’s definitely interesting to see it explicitly.

Here's an awesome video.