Train

Strange times, strange circumstances. It’s only human nature to lose oneself in wondering “what if.” Or just hopping on a west bound train, to being in my former lover’s arms in a matter of hours. If only. There’s no safety nor certainty anymore. You can almost hear death approaching from the East. Maybe this is the beginning of the end. Have you made peace with the grudges and regrets of your life? I wish I could. That final conversation. That final embrace. Meanwhile, the world goes to shit for the greed and imbecility of a tyrant. What a fucking waste.
“I’m worried about her,” I say, as my friend and I walk in the park. “Is it normal to worry about your exes, you think? To still care?”
She looks into the eyes of her newborn baby, making it evident to me that there are things way more precious one can worry about. “It’s strange times,” she says, ominously; “So yes, it’s okay to worry. Of course you still care about C. Any decent person would.”
We continue our walk, in the silence amidst the storm. My friend never wanted to have kids, and now she’s a mom. People change. Although I feel embarrassed and too damn naive, I guess it’s natural to have some faith in humanity. Regardless of what we’ve witnessed and continue to see. Or maybe I’m just an idiot, never learning from my mistakes. Giving away too many second chances. But then, it’s war today. Perhaps this fantasy of a train to Jylland to escape the fear and madness of the zeitgeist is not idiotic, but an understandable reaction.
Fuck being woke and empowered, for just one weekend. Fuck Russia. Fuck NATO. Fuck the whole planet Earth. I’m forgiving myself from wanting again the best embrace I’ve had. History will be written by the victors. And history will understand me. Or so I can hope, when this shit ends.

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