the three of us had been walking for what felt like days. after a few hours of following the tracks we realized we were like those kids… in that movie…
My small hometown in Wisconsin. This reminds me of the cheap, elderly couple that would come into the restaurant and split a kids chicken strip basket. The ran the local railroad museum in town. It also reminds me of my crazy 8th grade teacher who told us about his friend getting hit by a train and dying. And my next door neighbor who was hit twice by the pizza train. haha.
This reminds me of back home, the old cheap couple that order a kids chicken strip basket at tracks who run the railroad museum. Spooner, Wi. HOme of the Rails. We don’t have a great football or basketball team, but we have a railroad. That’s about it. Oh, and a Pamida.
A railroad is a dread place. With reason. How many lives are lost, how many futures are dimmed and past are forgotten by that unstopable cars? Upon a reality like this, the best we can do is, in a respectful manner, stay silent for the ones that are gone.
Railroad track policies, trip past yesterdays dusty counter tops. Does it make sense. Am I even writing what I should be? My time is running out like life. I’m scared. Terribly scared. I’m a train on destroyed tracks. Crash. Quarter turn to look in the mirror that I too often shy away from and fear. We try to hard to perfect what never should have been in the first place.
What in the world? I cross one every single day of my miserable existence. Twice. Once to that hellhole and once slinking back to my dark pit. I cannot fathom why they even look at me. It’s not as if I have anything of value to them. I am simply here to provide amusement to those few people who actually realize I am alive.
She passed the iron tracks, facing forwards she took one step away, away from the life she led, from the life she knew and ventured out into the unknown. With a train as her vessel she had begun her journey, and now exiting through it’s double doors, she veered off the tracks into a world of her own creation. She was free, now and forever more, she could finally move on.
I have a railroad through my yard. The sound is low and vibrating, and I actually like it a lot. When the wind from the speed train blows my hair back, it feels like schools rolling by two feet from my face.
i just got this word. why does it keep sending me this same word. there’s only so much i can write about a freaking railroad. trains go on railroads. trains take you places. some people miss their destination. sucks for them, but they can always get off at the next stop so it’s really no big deal. but people have that freak out like what the hell do i do for a second and look around. but they try to act like they’re cool and it was all on purpose that they didn’t get off ont he right stop. i guesseveyone wants to look cool.
I think of a damsel in distress. Some terrible man steals her away and asks for ransom money from her poor father who can’t afford anything. He ties her to the railroad tracks to be crushed by the train, but just as the train rounds the bend, the handsome, sexy, kind, wonderful cowboy comes and saves her. I want that!
I waited on the edge of the railroad. Waiting. Waiting. For his train to arrive. But it never did arrive. I didn’t know when the last time I had seen him was. It was at that moment I realized that he was never coming back. Later that evening as I sat alone in my house I saw on the television that his train had crashed.
My Dad worked on the railroad, it was a good job for someone who liked the countryside and whose financial situation meant they had to leave school early to support themself. He started as a signalman and worked his way up to station master.
I think of my uncle who is a conductor for the metro north railroad. He is the big man, who is gruff and almost rude. But on the inside he has a really big heart. He gives amzing hugs and engulfs you and I love him. He is a good person who loves his family and drives a train. He may not be the most normal or socially acceptable looking guy, but he is good at what he is and what he does. The best conductor I know.
We used to meet at the railroad at twilight. No trains ever came. It was abandoned. It was so quiet, so serene. Just us two. We’d sit for an hour just talking about everything. She looked like a faerie with her silver hair and blue eyes. She would talk about how she wished to die. Because life wasn’t a challenge. It made me wonder what would happen if trains did come.
I don’t even know what is a railroad. I think that is something related to trains and stuff, but I’m not sure. Maybe I’m wrong. Okay, I’m wrong. But that’s good so I can practice my english and write a little. Without fear. I wish more time.
this thing goes choo choo across the tracks,,, it is also dangerous because it goes so fast it can kill people who go on the tracks, unknowingly, but its a great way to avoid traffic and travel around, but it takes a while to go places. railroads are a better than busses.
Railroad tracks. Fading away. Your memory is gone, down those fading tracks, and no one will ever be able to follow it because the tracks are disappearing. They’re gone, and so are you. You’ll never come back.
He walked along the tracks of the railroad, whistling softly to himself. A long, loud horn sounded from behind him. Not too close. Perhaps behind the mountain, yet. He would risk a longer walk. No sense in always looking back.
Tom stopped as he thought about what he was about to do. “Am I really going to go through with this?” he said to himself.
He pulled out his wallet and paid for his ticket in full. He was leaving for California on the railroad. Leaving behind his family and friends, everything he knew, for the chance at making it big.
Romantic. Efficient. fascinating. Freight trains running through the night. Monopoly. Riding across the Indian sub-continent drinking great wine. The alps.
i saw a railroad while on a walk the other day. it made me think of a journey. a journey home. all of the sudden i realized how much i missed home. it finally occurred to me that i haven’t been home in a while and that made me sad. i missed myself the way i was when i was home.
I am always afraid to cross railroad tracks because I might get hit by a train. Even tracks that are old, overgrown and haven’t been used in decades. Just in case.
there were footprints beside the tracks, but no one really ever went there. the person seeing them was the person who made them, following their own footsteps from weeks ago, the last time they felt this way. it is never clear what drives someone to a railroad track – longing? hope? pain?
The railroad station always held a sense of mystery for me. The trains coming in and out like clockwork with mysterious people going about their own lives. Living. Loving. Never certain of what is going to happen to them once they land here in this tiny town. Small town USA.
I’m surprised trains even come by here, but they do. Always bringing passengers and presents, but never taking me anywhere. I’m here to lead those who depart to their journey. Never making the journey myself.
Railroad bridges in my head. So treacherous. I walk across them anyways. Afraid to look down into the pits full of gnashing teeth. I hear trains in the distance, but I can’t see the end of the bridge.
Trudging down a metal road
With my pack on my back,
I carry an unbearable load,
That I can never take back,
Fleeing from my identity,
running from my heart,
The story of my life
The darkness of my night…
and it’s not ours to speculate, if it’s wrong or,
you’re hands are tough but they are where mine belong
taylor swift is amazing.
please appreciate this woman.
someday she won’t be bursting out relatable, beautiful hits every so often.
don’t take this for granted people, i swear you’ll regret it.
I take the train every day, and it’s really boring. When I hear the word railroad I normally think of freight trains in america and being free. That’s what I want. Several months on my own and a freight train. We don’t get them in england. I wish we did. I hate the trains over here.
once the road led to my house. A pretty house with a black roof. I wantes to peint it red but did not hace time so i bought another house instead Now i live here and see my friends everyday.
oh this railroad of love. This railroad of love is gonna track me back to the place I’ve always wanted to go.
I miss my places, my flowers, my scenes, my senses but most of all, the track where the railroad could take me away.
My happiness is within me and his long ladders of dreams.
He stood at the edge of the tracks watching with rampant joy. He would finally be rid of her, see her violently crushed under oncoming beast of a machine. He could hear it in the distance and he watched as she muffled out a scream under her gagged and tears rolled down her face.
track
train run going west virginia i dont know why im thinking of this . car. riving where did that crazy boy go. not at the bar apparently, someone’s getting a slap in the face.. more likely a punch
A single railroad ran through my town, let me tell you something that’s just how small we are. I used to hate it, I have to tell you know, it’s my favorite thing about this town. There isn’t much to do sure, but that’s the magical thing. You have to use your imagination here, or else you go insane.
the three of us had been walking for what felt like days. after a few hours of following the tracks we realized we were like those kids… in that movie…
My small hometown in Wisconsin. This reminds me of the cheap, elderly couple that would come into the restaurant and split a kids chicken strip basket. The ran the local railroad museum in town. It also reminds me of my crazy 8th grade teacher who told us about his friend getting hit by a train and dying. And my next door neighbor who was hit twice by the pizza train. haha.
This reminds me of back home, the old cheap couple that order a kids chicken strip basket at tracks who run the railroad museum. Spooner, Wi. HOme of the Rails. We don’t have a great football or basketball team, but we have a railroad. That’s about it. Oh, and a Pamida.
A railroad is a dread place. With reason. How many lives are lost, how many futures are dimmed and past are forgotten by that unstopable cars? Upon a reality like this, the best we can do is, in a respectful manner, stay silent for the ones that are gone.
Railroad track policies, trip past yesterdays dusty counter tops. Does it make sense. Am I even writing what I should be? My time is running out like life. I’m scared. Terribly scared. I’m a train on destroyed tracks. Crash. Quarter turn to look in the mirror that I too often shy away from and fear. We try to hard to perfect what never should have been in the first place.
What in the world? I cross one every single day of my miserable existence. Twice. Once to that hellhole and once slinking back to my dark pit. I cannot fathom why they even look at me. It’s not as if I have anything of value to them. I am simply here to provide amusement to those few people who actually realize I am alive.
She passed the iron tracks, facing forwards she took one step away, away from the life she led, from the life she knew and ventured out into the unknown. With a train as her vessel she had begun her journey, and now exiting through it’s double doors, she veered off the tracks into a world of her own creation. She was free, now and forever more, she could finally move on.
I have a railroad through my yard. The sound is low and vibrating, and I actually like it a lot. When the wind from the speed train blows my hair back, it feels like schools rolling by two feet from my face.
i just got this word. why does it keep sending me this same word. there’s only so much i can write about a freaking railroad. trains go on railroads. trains take you places. some people miss their destination. sucks for them, but they can always get off at the next stop so it’s really no big deal. but people have that freak out like what the hell do i do for a second and look around. but they try to act like they’re cool and it was all on purpose that they didn’t get off ont he right stop. i guesseveyone wants to look cool.
railroad não me lembra merda nenhuma.
I’m travelling on my own railroad. I think this is the right thing to do.
I think of a damsel in distress. Some terrible man steals her away and asks for ransom money from her poor father who can’t afford anything. He ties her to the railroad tracks to be crushed by the train, but just as the train rounds the bend, the handsome, sexy, kind, wonderful cowboy comes and saves her. I want that!
Trains run both ways.
I waited on the edge of the railroad. Waiting. Waiting. For his train to arrive. But it never did arrive. I didn’t know when the last time I had seen him was. It was at that moment I realized that he was never coming back. Later that evening as I sat alone in my house I saw on the television that his train had crashed.
I said don’t go.
but he went.
My Dad worked on the railroad, it was a good job for someone who liked the countryside and whose financial situation meant they had to leave school early to support themself. He started as a signalman and worked his way up to station master.
I think of my uncle who is a conductor for the metro north railroad. He is the big man, who is gruff and almost rude. But on the inside he has a really big heart. He gives amzing hugs and engulfs you and I love him. He is a good person who loves his family and drives a train. He may not be the most normal or socially acceptable looking guy, but he is good at what he is and what he does. The best conductor I know.
“I just can’t decide if this railroad is a deathtrap, or just deadly. What do you think?”
“Honestly? I think it’s a deathtrap. It just sounds better, yanno?”
“Eh. I suppose. Either way, this won’t end well.”
We used to meet at the railroad at twilight. No trains ever came. It was abandoned. It was so quiet, so serene. Just us two. We’d sit for an hour just talking about everything. She looked like a faerie with her silver hair and blue eyes. She would talk about how she wished to die. Because life wasn’t a challenge. It made me wonder what would happen if trains did come.
I don’t even know what is a railroad. I think that is something related to trains and stuff, but I’m not sure. Maybe I’m wrong. Okay, I’m wrong. But that’s good so I can practice my english and write a little. Without fear. I wish more time.
this thing goes choo choo across the tracks,,, it is also dangerous because it goes so fast it can kill people who go on the tracks, unknowingly, but its a great way to avoid traffic and travel around, but it takes a while to go places. railroads are a better than busses.
Railroad tracks. Fading away. Your memory is gone, down those fading tracks, and no one will ever be able to follow it because the tracks are disappearing. They’re gone, and so are you. You’ll never come back.
I miss you.
He walked along the tracks of the railroad, whistling softly to himself. A long, loud horn sounded from behind him. Not too close. Perhaps behind the mountain, yet. He would risk a longer walk. No sense in always looking back.
Tom stopped as he thought about what he was about to do. “Am I really going to go through with this?” he said to himself.
He pulled out his wallet and paid for his ticket in full. He was leaving for California on the railroad. Leaving behind his family and friends, everything he knew, for the chance at making it big.
Romantic. Efficient. fascinating. Freight trains running through the night. Monopoly. Riding across the Indian sub-continent drinking great wine. The alps.
i saw a railroad while on a walk the other day. it made me think of a journey. a journey home. all of the sudden i realized how much i missed home. it finally occurred to me that i haven’t been home in a while and that made me sad. i missed myself the way i was when i was home.
I am always afraid to cross railroad tracks because I might get hit by a train. Even tracks that are old, overgrown and haven’t been used in decades. Just in case.
there were footprints beside the tracks, but no one really ever went there. the person seeing them was the person who made them, following their own footsteps from weeks ago, the last time they felt this way. it is never clear what drives someone to a railroad track – longing? hope? pain?
The railroad station always held a sense of mystery for me. The trains coming in and out like clockwork with mysterious people going about their own lives. Living. Loving. Never certain of what is going to happen to them once they land here in this tiny town. Small town USA.
I’m surprised trains even come by here, but they do. Always bringing passengers and presents, but never taking me anywhere. I’m here to lead those who depart to their journey. Never making the journey myself.
Railroad bridges in my head. So treacherous. I walk across them anyways. Afraid to look down into the pits full of gnashing teeth. I hear trains in the distance, but I can’t see the end of the bridge.
Trudging down a metal road
With my pack on my back,
I carry an unbearable load,
That I can never take back,
Fleeing from my identity,
running from my heart,
The story of my life
The darkness of my night…
and it’s not ours to speculate, if it’s wrong or,
you’re hands are tough but they are where mine belong
taylor swift is amazing.
please appreciate this woman.
someday she won’t be bursting out relatable, beautiful hits every so often.
don’t take this for granted people, i swear you’ll regret it.
I HAVE ALREADY GOTTEN THIS ONE AND I’VE ONLY HAD ONE BEFORE.
and i also have a world history ap test to study for. so thanks for distracting me for one minute for nothing.
i hate my life <3
I take the train every day, and it’s really boring. When I hear the word railroad I normally think of freight trains in america and being free. That’s what I want. Several months on my own and a freight train. We don’t get them in england. I wish we did. I hate the trains over here.
once the road led to my house. A pretty house with a black roof. I wantes to peint it red but did not hace time so i bought another house instead Now i live here and see my friends everyday.
oh this railroad of love. This railroad of love is gonna track me back to the place I’ve always wanted to go.
I miss my places, my flowers, my scenes, my senses but most of all, the track where the railroad could take me away.
My happiness is within me and his long ladders of dreams.
He stood at the edge of the tracks watching with rampant joy. He would finally be rid of her, see her violently crushed under oncoming beast of a machine. He could hear it in the distance and he watched as she muffled out a scream under her gagged and tears rolled down her face.
pigeon holed by the group as a person of less desirable traits and class, then they, he fell short of making the railroads required to blend in.
track
train run going west virginia i dont know why im thinking of this . car. riving where did that crazy boy go. not at the bar apparently, someone’s getting a slap in the face.. more likely a punch
A single railroad ran through my town, let me tell you something that’s just how small we are. I used to hate it, I have to tell you know, it’s my favorite thing about this town. There isn’t much to do sure, but that’s the magical thing. You have to use your imagination here, or else you go insane.