trains come and go like that. i got one once. it traveled faster than i could shave. its because i never did my homework as a child. then again, i moistened my thumbs many times before. If you ask me on another day i may give you a differently shaded thought on that one.
The memories of country sides flying by the window in a blur of of pretty sights makes me smile. “I hope this old train breaks down so I take take a walk around see what there is to see cause time is just a melody.”
trains come and go like that. i got one once. it traveled faster than i could shave. its because i never did my homework as a child. then again, i moistened my thumbs many times before.
They got on the train without me. Stepped off the plank and onto the hollowed out metal that would carry them to far away lands. They didn’t call or even turn their heads to wave to a metaphor of myself, a ghost: the hypothetical me wishing I were there. Waiting. Going. Hopping on the train beside them.
I am in training right now for a 5K, and I love to train! Pushing myself, my mind, my body, my limits….it’s very exciting and exhilarating. I’m glad I got to do this while I am young and strong enough, and I know the skills I am gaining will serve me well for the rest of my life.
A train once pulled into a station in Paris without even putting on its brakes. It careened across a platform, and lodged itself in a wall, where it hung out over the street. Nobody was killed, luckily.
Trains… such an exciting experience as a little kid. But what happens as you grow up? Trains become just a sort of transportation and a use of your money. It really shows that as you grow up things become less exciting to you. Trains , in my opinion are still as exhilerating as they were when i was young.
trains are for transportation. once i wrote a short story about being on a train. it was based on an experience i had going back to college after being home for the holiday. i sat near a girl i had known from high school and played my guitar. she and i never were close friends, but we became closer af
When I was little, I wanted to be a train conductor. I had train books, movies, toys and posters. The first piece of art I ever bought was a painting of an old steam train at Bitche, France. I used to spend hours setting up train tracks all around my room and making sure each train reached its station on schedule.
free writing about trains is a bit dull because i’ve never been on a train. not that i wouldn’t like to, but the opportunity has never arisen. also i tend to get seasick and supposedly the motion is similar between that of a boat and that of train, the constant swaying
the train ran late on the day of our anniversary, no one could explain the series of events that followed that day. the last time i saw her face was the last time i knew myself as sane, an individual.
ing to run a marathon is something i’d never do. I can’t understand this obcession with shredding and rebuilding your body. Is it wrong that I love myself weak and soft?
A gust of wind caught my hair and whirled the soft tethers across my cheek and neck. Yet I remained lost in my train of thought. To the extreme, it felt as though my thoughts were rocking my hair and body, not just the wind. Racking my frame from every side, all the wise, pushing me into myself. I felt cornered
i love trains becouse they remind me of my childhood and i adore listening to the sound of the wheels…it soothes me and i feel high…….what else? its a symbol of moving forward ..as well as an opportunity to get back ….trains are cool
Screaming down the biggest hill on the mountain, with 6 of your closest friends at your heals, waiting in a pool of anticipation just before launching 75 feet to the other side. Hoots and hollers from the lift, stamping an incredible and unforgettable moment in every one of our extracurricular lives.
I used to always want to ride a train. A real train. Not a subway not one in Disney world, a train that takes me from one place to the next. I don’t know why I always wanted that but I did…Now I don’t really care how I get from point A to point B.,.. As long as I get there in one piece.
i love to train people, there is also another type of train, in which we trvel, i dont realy like train, but i like to travel in it. adidas said train hard, so thats why i always train hard! training is all about of gett
The train seemed to go on forever. And it was fast. So fast. Almost unnaturally fast. But it was just a train. Time to get on. And go fast. Forever. Never stopping.
he was waiting for her. always waiting for her. at least until the day came when he would stop believing that she was on the next train, stop believing in her, stop believing at all. but that day wasn’t today. today he loved her. today he waited for her. today he was still a child, a child that wouldn’t grow up until he realized that she wasn’t coming for him. but that day wasn’t today, so let’s have a happy story now.
The smoke from the train billowed up into the sky, making the already downcast view even more depressing. She took a breath before pulling her large bag onto the train compartment. Looking back through the door she saw an absence of a familiar face. She sat down with a sigh as the footsteps of travelers echoed around her an all too recognizable face looked straight at her from across the train. “W-What are you doing here?” She asked. A smile flickered across her face as he sat down next to her, “Why accompanying you, of course. Do you really think I’d let you leave Japan without me?”
The train slowly pulled out of the station. In the distance, rolling hills waited to embrace it. Lora stood staring morosely at the caboose as the train continued on its westward journey. She couldn’t believe she had just put her three young children on it.
train to somewhere faraway, maybe to a beautiful field of red poppies; or tunneling into an abyss of darkness. the train never stops, sometimes i want to get down but i can’t. everything is moving at light speed, everything i see is a blur.
The train was stopped, all of a sudden. There might not be an important reason for it, but she wasn’t sure. She closed her book, stood up, and walked out to the door of her train car’s room. She slowly turned, and stuck her head out the door. Last thing she’d do.
Un train pour aller vers la Russie, un train pour me rapprocher de l’être que j’aime, un train pour braver le vent, un train pour traverser les fronti 138res
Train. It’s the very essence that transports a large amount of people, cargo and simply things. It comes about a string of several “trailers” linked together like a centipede that stretches in length. A train is bound by a small rail that allows it to run in tracks. This optimizes it’s speed and also allows a dedicated passageway for it to go through in.
listening to the train go by as we held our hands and took our last breath. John was squeezing so tight, but we knew that in this moment we would both reach our eternity together.
Train. To train is to enhance abilities, skills, thoughts. To render oneself somehow competent. A train, however, may be symbolic in so many ways. Trains are versatile, no? Trains for dresses, trains that take you places–far, far away places.
A train is like an adventure on wheels. A magical capsule of mystery and intrigue, that stays on its tracks, gets you where you need to go, always has a destination. If only life we so well contained and focused as a train. What would that be like?
i took the train down to pittsburgh. i hadnt been there since last year when steve passed away. he left his wife and two children. she was jobless, they were hopeless. I couldnt help feeling like i owed them something. wendy met me for coffee and to help clear my mind. this winter felt like it was lasting forever.
Standing behind her, I held her hems.
I followed her down the aisle.
I smiled with straight white teeth when she teared up.
When he fumbled the ring.
When they kissed.
But inside myself
I wanted to scream:
I know about the bruises.
Under her skirt.
The train is a machine that transports people and objects. One can go on an interrail, which is to travel (mostly in europe) solely by train. I intend to go on such a trip once I get older.
i’m sitting next to the tracks now,
cold, tired, hungry
Lonely,
most of all
lonely
the whistles sounds in the distance, and i look off,
the rails are hidden in the trees,
i here movement, ru=shing, chugging
the forest is growing more and more resentful
im standing beside the tracks,
the huge metal monster lunges forward, all sound, and fury
and it takes me over, and it fades away
for that instant, that glorious moment
i am away
i forget the ache, i forget my tears, the sounds and the forest, and the shadows
they soothe me
they make me at peace.
i continue down the tracks, looking for something distant,
waiting for the next train, to smother the thoughts that should not be afire in my head.
trains come and go like that. i got one once. it traveled faster than i could shave. its because i never did my homework as a child. then again, i moistened my thumbs many times before. If you ask me on another day i may give you a differently shaded thought on that one.
The memories of country sides flying by the window in a blur of of pretty sights makes me smile. “I hope this old train breaks down so I take take a walk around see what there is to see cause time is just a melody.”
trains come and go like that. i got one once. it traveled faster than i could shave. its because i never did my homework as a child. then again, i moistened my thumbs many times before.
They got on the train without me. Stepped off the plank and onto the hollowed out metal that would carry them to far away lands. They didn’t call or even turn their heads to wave to a metaphor of myself, a ghost: the hypothetical me wishing I were there. Waiting. Going. Hopping on the train beside them.
Train is a word that I keep getting and I’m wondering if this website actually has any other words. I know it’s called “oneword” but really.
I am in training right now for a 5K, and I love to train! Pushing myself, my mind, my body, my limits….it’s very exciting and exhilarating. I’m glad I got to do this while I am young and strong enough, and I know the skills I am gaining will serve me well for the rest of my life.
A train once pulled into a station in Paris without even putting on its brakes. It careened across a platform, and lodged itself in a wall, where it hung out over the street. Nobody was killed, luckily.
Trains… such an exciting experience as a little kid. But what happens as you grow up? Trains become just a sort of transportation and a use of your money. It really shows that as you grow up things become less exciting to you. Trains , in my opinion are still as exhilerating as they were when i was young.
trains are for transportation. once i wrote a short story about being on a train. it was based on an experience i had going back to college after being home for the holiday. i sat near a girl i had known from high school and played my guitar. she and i never were close friends, but we became closer af
When I was little, I wanted to be a train conductor. I had train books, movies, toys and posters. The first piece of art I ever bought was a painting of an old steam train at Bitche, France. I used to spend hours setting up train tracks all around my room and making sure each train reached its station on schedule.
free writing about trains is a bit dull because i’ve never been on a train. not that i wouldn’t like to, but the opportunity has never arisen. also i tend to get seasick and supposedly the motion is similar between that of a boat and that of train, the constant swaying
the train ran late on the day of our anniversary, no one could explain the series of events that followed that day. the last time i saw her face was the last time i knew myself as sane, an individual.
ing to run a marathon is something i’d never do. I can’t understand this obcession with shredding and rebuilding your body. Is it wrong that I love myself weak and soft?
trains are large vehicles
i’ve always wanted to travel by train
train in the winter
in some place in europe
smoking cigarettes
watching the landscape
A gust of wind caught my hair and whirled the soft tethers across my cheek and neck. Yet I remained lost in my train of thought. To the extreme, it felt as though my thoughts were rocking my hair and body, not just the wind. Racking my frame from every side, all the wise, pushing me into myself. I felt cornered
i love trains becouse they remind me of my childhood and i adore listening to the sound of the wheels…it soothes me and i feel high…….what else? its a symbol of moving forward ..as well as an opportunity to get back ….trains are cool
Screaming down the biggest hill on the mountain, with 6 of your closest friends at your heals, waiting in a pool of anticipation just before launching 75 feet to the other side. Hoots and hollers from the lift, stamping an incredible and unforgettable moment in every one of our extracurricular lives.
My mind is a one-track, no branching, no stops along the way, my methods straightforward, angry, steaming, unstoppable. Life is train, get on board.
I used to always want to ride a train. A real train. Not a subway not one in Disney world, a train that takes me from one place to the next. I don’t know why I always wanted that but I did…Now I don’t really care how I get from point A to point B.,.. As long as I get there in one piece.
i love to train people, there is also another type of train, in which we trvel, i dont realy like train, but i like to travel in it. adidas said train hard, so thats why i always train hard! training is all about of gett
The train seemed to go on forever. And it was fast. So fast. Almost unnaturally fast. But it was just a train. Time to get on. And go fast. Forever. Never stopping.
he was waiting for her. always waiting for her. at least until the day came when he would stop believing that she was on the next train, stop believing in her, stop believing at all. but that day wasn’t today. today he loved her. today he waited for her. today he was still a child, a child that wouldn’t grow up until he realized that she wasn’t coming for him. but that day wasn’t today, so let’s have a happy story now.
The smoke from the train billowed up into the sky, making the already downcast view even more depressing. She took a breath before pulling her large bag onto the train compartment. Looking back through the door she saw an absence of a familiar face. She sat down with a sigh as the footsteps of travelers echoed around her an all too recognizable face looked straight at her from across the train. “W-What are you doing here?” She asked. A smile flickered across her face as he sat down next to her, “Why accompanying you, of course. Do you really think I’d let you leave Japan without me?”
the train stopped grinding and squealing the brakes
to stop quick the train needs more miles to do that
trains of old were the best for ambiance
The train slowly pulled out of the station. In the distance, rolling hills waited to embrace it. Lora stood staring morosely at the caboose as the train continued on its westward journey. She couldn’t believe she had just put her three young children on it.
train to somewhere faraway, maybe to a beautiful field of red poppies; or tunneling into an abyss of darkness. the train never stops, sometimes i want to get down but i can’t. everything is moving at light speed, everything i see is a blur.
Moving through the city, raising a clatter like a bucket scrapped across a fence, the old box cars made their way through the city.
Trains take you place. they lead you away from a life that you don’t want anymore and most of all trains can break your heart. Trains….. take me away.
The train was stopped, all of a sudden. There might not be an important reason for it, but she wasn’t sure. She closed her book, stood up, and walked out to the door of her train car’s room. She slowly turned, and stuck her head out the door. Last thing she’d do.
Un train pour aller vers la Russie, un train pour me rapprocher de l’être que j’aime, un train pour braver le vent, un train pour traverser les fronti 138res
Train. It’s the very essence that transports a large amount of people, cargo and simply things. It comes about a string of several “trailers” linked together like a centipede that stretches in length. A train is bound by a small rail that allows it to run in tracks. This optimizes it’s speed and also allows a dedicated passageway for it to go through in.
listening to the train go by as we held our hands and took our last breath. John was squeezing so tight, but we knew that in this moment we would both reach our eternity together.
Train. To train is to enhance abilities, skills, thoughts. To render oneself somehow competent. A train, however, may be symbolic in so many ways. Trains are versatile, no? Trains for dresses, trains that take you places–far, far away places.
A train is like an adventure on wheels. A magical capsule of mystery and intrigue, that stays on its tracks, gets you where you need to go, always has a destination. If only life we so well contained and focused as a train. What would that be like?
i took the train down to pittsburgh. i hadnt been there since last year when steve passed away. he left his wife and two children. she was jobless, they were hopeless. I couldnt help feeling like i owed them something. wendy met me for coffee and to help clear my mind. this winter felt like it was lasting forever.
The train stopped dead in its tracks. A few yards behind the train laid the crushed body of 9 year- old janey.
Standing behind her, I held her hems.
I followed her down the aisle.
I smiled with straight white teeth when she teared up.
When he fumbled the ring.
When they kissed.
But inside myself
I wanted to scream:
I know about the bruises.
Under her skirt.
It is time to train myself to eat right. Not binging. Not starving.
Eating the way that God intended; not my way.
It may be hard, but it’s well worth the fight.
The train is a machine that transports people and objects. One can go on an interrail, which is to travel (mostly in europe) solely by train. I intend to go on such a trip once I get older.
i’m sitting next to the tracks now,
cold, tired, hungry
Lonely,
most of all
lonely
the whistles sounds in the distance, and i look off,
the rails are hidden in the trees,
i here movement, ru=shing, chugging
the forest is growing more and more resentful
im standing beside the tracks,
the huge metal monster lunges forward, all sound, and fury
and it takes me over, and it fades away
for that instant, that glorious moment
i am away
i forget the ache, i forget my tears, the sounds and the forest, and the shadows
they soothe me
they make me at peace.
i continue down the tracks, looking for something distant,
waiting for the next train, to smother the thoughts that should not be afire in my head.