trains go there when they are reaching a destination. They can be big or small it really doesn’t matter, as long as they get you where you wanna go. You can easily miss it, or you can meet it right on time. It’s like a meeting spot for the travellers of this world.
trains are wonderful. I think harry potter. so whimsical. I love stations. Travel is amazing. I love the feeling of the air on your face when a train comes. Stations are so magical. full of people coming and going and loving and saying goodbye. Travel is loving.
Green painted woodwork flaking on the faces and backs of generals huddled around the brazier – snow fell with it as they stamped their feet – fanning the embers in the murk of this place of transition
Station. Station Street. I used to work at a museum that was on Station Street, named because it was the street where the train station was located. I think about that train station and how the years have gone by around it and still it’s there. The building itself is falling down now, and the basement floods and is in dire need of repairs, but it’s still there, still receiving visitors almost the same way it did in it’s heyday back in the 1930s when it brought loads of skiers to Lake Placid to enjoy the winter weather.
I was standing at the omelette station when she came in. She had a red dress that was completely inappropriate for Sunday Brunch, but that only made her more attractive. The smeared mascara I could have done without, but you know what they say about Vegas.
I’ve never been to a train station. I’ve never been on a train. I don’t know why, I’ve always wanted to be on a train; there’s something strangely romantic about it.
I was sitting at the police station when he walked in . “what are you looking at?” he asked. That was my ex partner. He’s been mad every since i decided to go clean.
its a place where loadsa people can be found. its one of the few places where such a diverse range of people are found in the same place at the same time. a plcae where poeple act in a certain way, if u stop and look around its a place where theres so many different faces, people, and you can roughly tell where people are headed.
I took photos of all these train stations for you.
They are something nostalgic, a generation before me which idolizes their industry. It’s a moment like this when I can notice how much older you are than me. Your large hands on my thighs make you seem like you are within my grasp.
Antwerp station was reminiscent of a grand architecture only known to me through the pages of my heavy, worn, forest green art history book. Laying on my bed, nails tracing the lines of gold and red beams, blue panes of glass. All the while slowly growing towards womanhood, you were traveling in Europe with a former lover.
trains, I’ve been to these before I’ve seen all there is to life at these, I’ve wanted to kill myself at these. I want to go there, to thrive, to live, to die. I’ve seen life and I’ve seen decay, they’re in my dreams.
I was leaving the station one day to head to work. On the way, I stumbled upon a tiny baby robin, hopping and fluttering from place to place. He seemed to want to know if I was his momma. I thought back to the Dr. Seuss book of my youth. “No, my dear bird. I am not,” I said and walked on.
the train station. people come and go. backs rolling against the tile. people moving. hugging. kissing. hellos. goodbyes. smiles. laughs. tears. lights. trains coming. crowded walkways. a wave goodbye. a broken heart.
The rain pounded the concrete just outside the awning of the station, making everything outside seem that much heavier. Her train had arrived early and her dad was running late, which gave her just the right amount of time to wrap her mind around what exactly was going wrong in her life.
When I stood in the stop at the station, I remember my stomach exploding with butterflies too amped up to settle because she was coming home after several years. Several years equaled a century of longing in boxer shorts
the train pulled away from the station platform ready to roll underground to the next stop on the subway
i have never been on a subway train but have ridden a passenger train when i was a child
Standing at the station, Lydia looked up at the flourescent sign blinking above the balding head of the man sitting opposite her. She tried not to smile as he rubbed his hand over his head that reflected the garish lighting. The distraction was not enough to keep her mind of the fact that the train had yet to arrive.
There are many different types of statons like, for instane train sations, or bus stations they all are different, but they all get us somewhere important.
a bus station with people in it. this is where you meet your true love. do you notice one another? or is it simply two people waiting for a bus? do you talk? a simple hello? is this an opportunity to meet your soulmate? or does it pass you by? take the risk!
i sit there in the station waiting for what feels like ever. i mean is your train ever coming? i dont know what you’ll think when you see i’m here to get you. you hopefully will be happy. its been months. your mom told me youd be coming in on military train 50. so im here. waiting….
they are standing still. they are not moving. time moves slowly but these people move even slower. not at all. their eyes are on you. they are watching. you won’t escape their notice. they won’t move. the train comes. it shrieks through the station. they are still not moving.
The train pulled in to the station, the doors opened slowly and he stepped out. Looking to his left, then slowly to his right. “Where is she”? He thought. Not sure what to do. Unsure he fumbles for his suitcase and starts walking towards the exit.
The train station was nearly empty on that cold, rainy Sunday morning. He stood there tired and drenched, just as he did last sunday and the sunday before.
I headed for the train station, and I didn’t look back. It was time to let go of my tortured past and begin a bright, new future. But to do that, I knew I had to leave. So I headed for the train station, and I never looked back.
It looks rather dirty and dark. A bit scary. The train station is deserted and silent. You can hear your own heart beating fast. You imagine someone lurking in the dark. There is noone there.
Still thinking the opposite?
Go and check. There is nobody there.
in limbo at a station. i am always nowhere. in between. hoping of something i am going to attain someday. observing people and scribbling about them. attainment. attenuation.
the train whistle sounded and the hustle and bustle of the railway faded from Milly’s consciousness. He heart leaped into her throat and her mind raced to her lover’s train car where he anxiously awaited the moment they would be reunited. Would he look the same? what had the fighting done to him? Would he act differently? she shook the thought from her mind and hurried to the platform, waiting for the steam engine to slow.
I came up to the train station and went inside. I looked up at the list of places I could go. I didn’t know how I could end up, where I would end up, nor who I’d encounter out there. All I knew was that was ready for a change. And that I could not wait. <3
It was a gray morning as we walked toward the train station. Jasmine vines were growing up the wall and the air was filled with its heavy scent. Old fashioned lights hung from the ceiling where insects gathered round. One lone worker appeared behind the counter and informed us the train would be arriving late this morning. There’s a coffee shop a few blocks over. We thanked him and turned to go.
He refused to believe that this was his station in life. He was determined to show them all that he could truly rise above the meager beginnings that he was born into and suffered through throughout his life. He knew what he was capable of.
I went to the station to meet him. I was sure I’d recognize him, but would he me? I scanned the crowd as the people disembarked, looking for that thatch of familiar blonde hair, those sleepy blue eyes. I spotted the eyes immediately, but the hair—what happened to the hair? It didn’t matter, I loved him even though his hairline was a bit higher. The smile behind his eyes was still the same.
I went to the station and I felt the ominous feeling of travel sweep over me. The sounds of a train are music to my ears. The rocking and rolling and bumping of a train are like a symphony. The ode to travel. This is where I belong.
Like a gas station, or maybe a train. You ride the train to somewhere that you’ve never been before, and it takes your mind away to a different place; a place of creativity and of hope. Hope that the future will be better and brighter, but you can never know if it really will be.
“Man your stations!” Tamaki screamed, pointing at the group of people in front of him. Reluctantly they moved towards the large couch in front of them, sitting down perfectly poised as they all looked towards the large door in front of them sleepily. It began to open and they all snapped to attention their faces becoming happy as they extended an arm towards the door and said with a smile, “Welcome to the Host Club!”
trains go there when they are reaching a destination. They can be big or small it really doesn’t matter, as long as they get you where you wanna go. You can easily miss it, or you can meet it right on time. It’s like a meeting spot for the travellers of this world.
trains are wonderful. I think harry potter. so whimsical. I love stations. Travel is amazing. I love the feeling of the air on your face when a train comes. Stations are so magical. full of people coming and going and loving and saying goodbye. Travel is loving.
Green painted woodwork flaking on the faces and backs of generals huddled around the brazier – snow fell with it as they stamped their feet – fanning the embers in the murk of this place of transition
Station. Station Street. I used to work at a museum that was on Station Street, named because it was the street where the train station was located. I think about that train station and how the years have gone by around it and still it’s there. The building itself is falling down now, and the basement floods and is in dire need of repairs, but it’s still there, still receiving visitors almost the same way it did in it’s heyday back in the 1930s when it brought loads of skiers to Lake Placid to enjoy the winter weather.
I was standing at the omelette station when she came in. She had a red dress that was completely inappropriate for Sunday Brunch, but that only made her more attractive. The smeared mascara I could have done without, but you know what they say about Vegas.
I’ve never been to a train station. I’ve never been on a train. I don’t know why, I’ve always wanted to be on a train; there’s something strangely romantic about it.
I was waiting for the bus at station and then Oprah jumped out of nowhere and said she needs for me an important mission in Uganda.
I was sitting at the police station when he walked in . “what are you looking at?” he asked. That was my ex partner. He’s been mad every since i decided to go clean.
Someday I was at the station train
Somewhere was someone I was looking for
Somehow I can’t really remember
(anything else about it)
So..
what now?
its a place where loadsa people can be found. its one of the few places where such a diverse range of people are found in the same place at the same time. a plcae where poeple act in a certain way, if u stop and look around its a place where theres so many different faces, people, and you can roughly tell where people are headed.
The words wouldn’t come out and we stood there standing. Everything was painful and I just wanted to pump the gas.
I took photos of all these train stations for you.
They are something nostalgic, a generation before me which idolizes their industry. It’s a moment like this when I can notice how much older you are than me. Your large hands on my thighs make you seem like you are within my grasp.
Antwerp station was reminiscent of a grand architecture only known to me through the pages of my heavy, worn, forest green art history book. Laying on my bed, nails tracing the lines of gold and red beams, blue panes of glass. All the while slowly growing towards womanhood, you were traveling in Europe with a former lover.
trains, I’ve been to these before I’ve seen all there is to life at these, I’ve wanted to kill myself at these. I want to go there, to thrive, to live, to die. I’ve seen life and I’ve seen decay, they’re in my dreams.
I was leaving the station one day to head to work. On the way, I stumbled upon a tiny baby robin, hopping and fluttering from place to place. He seemed to want to know if I was his momma. I thought back to the Dr. Seuss book of my youth. “No, my dear bird. I am not,” I said and walked on.
This is not a station.
I like to write
even if its 1 word.
One word can be alot
It can make or break you
It can define you
It can be you
I am one word
odd.
the train station. people come and go. backs rolling against the tile. people moving. hugging. kissing. hellos. goodbyes. smiles. laughs. tears. lights. trains coming. crowded walkways. a wave goodbye. a broken heart.
The rain pounded the concrete just outside the awning of the station, making everything outside seem that much heavier. Her train had arrived early and her dad was running late, which gave her just the right amount of time to wrap her mind around what exactly was going wrong in her life.
When I stood in the stop at the station, I remember my stomach exploding with butterflies too amped up to settle because she was coming home after several years. Several years equaled a century of longing in boxer shorts
the train pulled away from the station platform ready to roll underground to the next stop on the subway
i have never been on a subway train but have ridden a passenger train when i was a child
Standing at the station, Lydia looked up at the flourescent sign blinking above the balding head of the man sitting opposite her. She tried not to smile as he rubbed his hand over his head that reflected the garish lighting. The distraction was not enough to keep her mind of the fact that the train had yet to arrive.
There are many different types of statons like, for instane train sations, or bus stations they all are different, but they all get us somewhere important.
a bus station with people in it. this is where you meet your true love. do you notice one another? or is it simply two people waiting for a bus? do you talk? a simple hello? is this an opportunity to meet your soulmate? or does it pass you by? take the risk!
i sit there in the station waiting for what feels like ever. i mean is your train ever coming? i dont know what you’ll think when you see i’m here to get you. you hopefully will be happy. its been months. your mom told me youd be coming in on military train 50. so im here. waiting….
they are standing still. they are not moving. time moves slowly but these people move even slower. not at all. their eyes are on you. they are watching. you won’t escape their notice. they won’t move. the train comes. it shrieks through the station. they are still not moving.
The train pulled in to the station, the doors opened slowly and he stepped out. Looking to his left, then slowly to his right. “Where is she”? He thought. Not sure what to do. Unsure he fumbles for his suitcase and starts walking towards the exit.
The train station was nearly empty on that cold, rainy Sunday morning. He stood there tired and drenched, just as he did last sunday and the sunday before.
train. place in life. pulling in. thomas the tank engine. of the cross. smoke, rumbling. travel. the 1900’s. trunks. tickets.
I headed for the train station, and I didn’t look back. It was time to let go of my tortured past and begin a bright, new future. But to do that, I knew I had to leave. So I headed for the train station, and I never looked back.
It looks rather dirty and dark. A bit scary. The train station is deserted and silent. You can hear your own heart beating fast. You imagine someone lurking in the dark. There is noone there.
Still thinking the opposite?
Go and check. There is nobody there.
in limbo at a station. i am always nowhere. in between. hoping of something i am going to attain someday. observing people and scribbling about them. attainment. attenuation.
the train whistle sounded and the hustle and bustle of the railway faded from Milly’s consciousness. He heart leaped into her throat and her mind raced to her lover’s train car where he anxiously awaited the moment they would be reunited. Would he look the same? what had the fighting done to him? Would he act differently? she shook the thought from her mind and hurried to the platform, waiting for the steam engine to slow.
I came up to the train station and went inside. I looked up at the list of places I could go. I didn’t know how I could end up, where I would end up, nor who I’d encounter out there. All I knew was that was ready for a change. And that I could not wait. <3
It was a gray morning as we walked toward the train station. Jasmine vines were growing up the wall and the air was filled with its heavy scent. Old fashioned lights hung from the ceiling where insects gathered round. One lone worker appeared behind the counter and informed us the train would be arriving late this morning. There’s a coffee shop a few blocks over. We thanked him and turned to go.
He refused to believe that this was his station in life. He was determined to show them all that he could truly rise above the meager beginnings that he was born into and suffered through throughout his life. He knew what he was capable of.
I went to the station to meet him. I was sure I’d recognize him, but would he me? I scanned the crowd as the people disembarked, looking for that thatch of familiar blonde hair, those sleepy blue eyes. I spotted the eyes immediately, but the hair—what happened to the hair? It didn’t matter, I loved him even though his hairline was a bit higher. The smile behind his eyes was still the same.
I went to the station and I felt the ominous feeling of travel sweep over me. The sounds of a train are music to my ears. The rocking and rolling and bumping of a train are like a symphony. The ode to travel. This is where I belong.
Like a gas station, or maybe a train. You ride the train to somewhere that you’ve never been before, and it takes your mind away to a different place; a place of creativity and of hope. Hope that the future will be better and brighter, but you can never know if it really will be.
It is not his station in life to do such menial labor, but then he no longer has the luxury of such high and mighty thoughts, now does he?
“Man your stations!” Tamaki screamed, pointing at the group of people in front of him. Reluctantly they moved towards the large couch in front of them, sitting down perfectly poised as they all looked towards the large door in front of them sleepily. It began to open and they all snapped to attention their faces becoming happy as they extended an arm towards the door and said with a smile, “Welcome to the Host Club!”