existance_or_bust cameron as the train approached, it slowed down in my head, the distance and time rubbing off on each other like the subjects of highschool trigonometry. it allowed me to board itself, and in one swift motion i stepped up and boarded a green and primer boxcar. swept away like a fish in the grasps of an eagle. the landscape is blurred from where i am now sitting where the sliding door is opened, but i can still make out the stiff ugly grass and easier the fluffy clouds that seem set in place. the emptiness and temperature of the prairie implies it is stale, but it is clean and empty. the hollow sound of air breaking on my face plays like a soundtrack to the miles of looming prairie appearing and disapearing in every direction. distant and above the gravitating effects of still life, i start to notice the slow destructive nature of it all. the grass brushed sideways by the wind tunneling from the train, struggling to uproot itself and escape from this noise. the screams of the obligatory damsel in distress tied to the tracks ahead of us. i close my eyes. what is the sky? it's an illusion created by the sun. why is it blue? because it is wet when the sky shines through it. why is the grass green? because the sun impregnates the earth. then why is it now yellow? because it has just passed away. 050121 ... cameron *sun shines through it *up onto a green and primer boxcar 050121 ... . . 050407 what's it to you? who go blather from