1 October 2004
I live near the train station here in Geneva. I see endless trains coming in and out of the city. Some are en route to France, others to Italy and many more to nearby states.
I feel like those trains – just passing through life and I’m just here for the ride. But do I really have a destination? I know trains have very limited movements often just going where the tracks lead and ending where they stop. What about me though? Do I move with the same precision and the same goal?
I find myself traveling and often having revelations in each country I stay in, but what purpose do they serve? Do they really make an impact on my life or do I just move on to the next destination, dropping everything as I go. After all, a train leaves even if a certain passenger gets on or not. The world doesn’t stop for one person.
Why am I always traveling and I can’t seem to grow roots? Why am I comfortable living out of a suitcase as if I’m ready to run away? Do I want to run away? Run away from what? Are life’s complexities too hard to deal with that a getaway train is the solution?
Let’s just say I’m having an existential crisis. It’s not the first and certainly, it’s not the last!