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Today, I rode the train out to Bray and back. No real reason, and it's not exactly a long journey - half an hour each way, maybe, when things are running on time. But the baritone lull of the DART under my seat has - it has sense memories attached. Two years ago, three, the commute into uni lectures on the mid-morning, mid-empty train was a few minutes of serene and content contemplation; the day ahead, what criminally-sweetened coffee I might purchase beforehand, the awesome thread I'd RP'd the night before, or would that weekend, which of the deliciously promising canons on my to-read list I'd dip into next. Those days... I'd never really written, fanfic or original, you see. So it was Milliways, born the summer before I started at Trinity, that taught me the how to - the importance of, the intricacies of - considering and analysing a character's particular emotional state. And so... I became more cognizant of the same things in myself; even given the difficulties we all face in life, and the ones I certainly faced then, I don't think I've ever been so acutely aware of my own happiness than my first year of university.
Earlier still, when I went to school within walking distance, the DART meant adventures - Going Somewhere With Friends. To catch a movie, or 'shopping' in town (inasmuch as we ever bought anything, which was rare), or to someone's house to rent a movie and eat takeout or pizza, listen to music, dance (badly), do each other's make-up (also badly), and talk about boys.
[Chicago, summer '07: one of my best and most wonderful memories of recent times is of the last evening of the trip, post-Millicon, doing nothing more than sitting around in Meg's apartment with Mu Ji, Feather, Josie, Holly, and Emmy, drinking, eating takeout and pizza, and playing Trivial Pursuit (badly).]
The wind was chilly today, but the sun was warm; through the window of the DART even moreso. The stretch high above the Killiney coast was lovely, but more than that - you could close your eyes, and feel enveloped.
I - don't feel tranquil. Not tranquil.
But I feel... calm.
Earlier still, when I went to school within walking distance, the DART meant adventures - Going Somewhere With Friends. To catch a movie, or 'shopping' in town (inasmuch as we ever bought anything, which was rare), or to someone's house to rent a movie and eat takeout or pizza, listen to music, dance (badly), do each other's make-up (also badly), and talk about boys.
[Chicago, summer '07: one of my best and most wonderful memories of recent times is of the last evening of the trip, post-Millicon, doing nothing more than sitting around in Meg's apartment with Mu Ji, Feather, Josie, Holly, and Emmy, drinking, eating takeout and pizza, and playing Trivial Pursuit (badly).]
The wind was chilly today, but the sun was warm; through the window of the DART even moreso. The stretch high above the Killiney coast was lovely, but more than that - you could close your eyes, and feel enveloped.
I - don't feel tranquil. Not tranquil.
But I feel... calm.