091013 #worm In the interstitial spaces between the cars, noise of the outside-underneath world roared into my head and filled my face with foreign air. Passing from one vestibule to another, you're so close to the riproaring speed of gravel, railroad ties, forgotten skulls, and the detritus of locality, it deliciously reinforces the elite hypotenuse feeling of rail travel. Even a lowly man such as myself, once he boards a train with ticket in hand, becomes magnetic royalty in the ephemeral court of neither here nor there. We angle across the commoner's lives, hovering above their rough-shod streets. We do not stop unless we want to, and when we do, we never cease vibrating with exoticism. We are always ready to knife away into another someone else's dream nocturne.