the rocking of the train leads me to dreams. soundtracked by calming signer songwriters, sometimes i open my sleepy eyes to catch glimpses of the belgian countryside. covered in snow, the view is pristine and i pull my coat closer, as if i could feel the wind's chill through the plate glass windows. sleep on a fast train is different than that in bed. sitting, your head against the window, you can almost feel every nook in the tracks. every leaf, every bit of snow that found itself under the wheels. falling asleep on a fast train, your dreams are invaded by every sound, every conversation. all of a sudden, you dream in italian, then japanese. you translate your dreams subconsciously. you translate your dreams however you want to. the rocking of the trains puts me to sleep, and as much as i want to watch the landscape pass me by, i give in. all you need are those sleepy glances out the window amid dreams anyway.
