Is life a train? A nuanced surface that would forever rotate in a circle. Are we trying to reach the train? Are we the so seemingly endless indispensability? We walk around in our heads and make it all spin around
Are we the train?
Or are we the time running out?
All the thoughts. They cause trouble. But still, they make us move. They make us act differently and maybe that's really the original meaning behind them. The reason we are still swirling around in the hope of a revelation that will never come.
It's a surface.