"The everyday is normally aligned with the mundane and profane, as the opposite the sacred."
Seated comfortably on one of the own seats of the train, each scratch, graffiti mark having its own story, I stared out the window watching the world move as the train took me to my destination. Spending at least forty minutes on the train everyday had become a ritual, a tradition, an everyday experience. My mind would drift into a state of contemplation of what I did and what I was to do, being extremely time-conscious.As my train of thoughts continued like my surroundings I became more aware. More aware of fellow travellers, of the scenery blurring by, of graffiti messages on the back of seats and windows. I observed, but I didn't see. Every other being was in relation through me. How I saw others; how I assumed and predicted their actions and ultimately, lives. I watched as older women carried on their weekly gossip, I listened to the tapping of the man's foot to the music drumming into his hears. All this was mundane. It would breeze pass my memories and be forgotten. It was in my mind insignificant. This thought and assumption ultimately carried onto my thoughts of the daily train rides. It was never an experience. Will it ever be?
