all the colors are creaking. attenuating, sapping, depleted textures from a time when people still rescued soggy, abandoned coins from wet streets, like all they needed was more danake for the ferryman to escape the perils of their born realm.
this aesthetic isn’t even daring enough to be gritty. it’s smooth in this safe sedate way, glare-less and flat. there’s not even a proper fade. everything’s preserved, but simultaneously void of sheen, in some weird attempt to push a muted fall season through to eternity. the designer must of chosen ‘autumn bleh’ off one of those cardboard swatches in his last act of misanthropy before laying down on the rails to catch the morning g into queens.
there’s always a dramatic movie set feeling on these rides, like you’re taking a 1976 morley safer set over to bedford and nostrand. like all ad’s should be in aki lines font, and baseball cap’s should be all net in the back.
this is opposed to the other trains that’re in an alternate time capsule. the ones that look like they selected their interior decor from a delta airlines or united state post office catalog, which are the same thing, right? proving always that the world is run by middle age men who can’t let go. i can’t wait to let go, because i’m letting go for real. let everyone drown in their time. future or past, while i rescind into sonic waves. i’ve come to appreciate the unavoidable day squalling fabrics of eleven castling dimensions save me from this inward expansion of core consuming poison.
i’d tell you about the guy in the burberry pattern golf hat, or the flirtable girl wearing glasses reading a joan dideon novel. but i guess i just did. they’re two dimensional characters from my seat. i suppose he probably has a family, her too. a quilt of legacy it’d take two weeks to chew through their flammable patterns.
words spin in like planets following a gravitational pull to a softly raging center.
“i dont know if i can ever be enough for you, but i promise i’ll never try.”
“so, you’re saying you’re too good to be pretentious?”
like how you say ‘no please’ and ‘yes thank you’
“oh it worked great. he locked her up with a baby now they’re both very unhappy together. it was very old fashioned. chivalry has not died, it just keeps killing everyone else.”
“why can’t i just tell you that i love
“why can’t you just love me…?”
“…i couldn’t tell you.”
“theres two l’s in lincoln, you don’t know history?”
“it isn’t my history…”
the bell chimes, the doors slide open, and then… vapor.