My train station on the beach in And here we go.

That old familiar feeling is here again. The sound of waves crashing on a pleasant autumn evening, the twinkle of guitar strings being plucked floating on the airways and feels like I’m siting waiting for a train on a beach.

The train is going to come rustling through the shore line kicking up sand and splashing water everywhere, only to stop quietly in front of me, the engine starting to growl again, eager to pick up and go.

Go where?
Bags packed, dressed up, go where?

The only thing more terrifying than have no choices in life is to have choices that make you question your own greed and fears.

I must choose one. I must get on that train. I must leave.

To a tomorrow, to a new place, to new people, to new everything.