On The Train to Santa Monica

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On the train to Santa Monica, I was suddenly overwhelmed with sonder, “the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own, populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—

an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.”

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7 thoughts on “On The Train to Santa Monica”

    1. no, i am not! i’d had a couple posts in backlog since my last trip to LA. it looks like you’re in cali (?) if so, fun and safe travels! cali is so fun.

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