Lost and found

Routine journeys become ingrained.  Time and space reconstructed in soft tissue.  Start-end times and duration vary through the complex daily interplay, but the journey remains the journey. 

Road junctions, traffic-lights. 

Bus-stops and interchanges.

Railway stations, signals, halts. 

Metro barriers, tunnels, platforms and stops. 

Doors open, doors close.

Early-morning internalisations shift routine to the background.  Encounters spin new thought-streams off to mingle, connect and spiral towards unconsciousness.  

Doors close. 

Motion, inertia, momentum, noise. 

Doors open. 

Routine.

You know the route, every stop.  There should be no need to count.

Perpetual motion. 

Doors open. 

First stop: Diego de Leon.

Two perceptions of time divide, running briefly side-by-side but apart, becoming independent.

A lifetime passes in your mind.  A hundred thousand images and questions: people, places, preoccupations.  Whole worlds of situations manifest and fade, replaced by something new, forgotten.

Doors close.

A sensory signal flips you back to check the name. 

Indexing the stops:

one? four?

Avenida de America? Cuatro Caminos?

No.  You’re still in estacion Diego de Leon.

Motion, inertia, momentum, noise.

Two perceptions of time divide.  A hundred thousand images and questions...