We cannot call journeys ugly and beautiful journeys.

We can call it travel and that’s it.

No more.

Since you were born you have been thrown on your train.

It depends on your luck whether you are born in the first class or in the second class.

If your train has a dining wagon or a sleeping wagon.

If it is eaten by rust or poor.

Traveling in different classes.

And we carry a destiny with us.

Destiny that is prescribed to us from birth.

Destiny in which you can be born in the right place and you are seen on a pedestal higher than others, without you having done anything.

And that’s all.

But even if you are born with an advantage from the start, you can have more obstacles and traps than those around you.

And that can delay you longer than you think.

They can slow you down.

Sometimes you even stop.

In our travels we make choices.

And most of the time negative about love, men and about life.

There are many stations in the train of our lives.

Stations where people can enter.

People, whose trajectory may or may not intersect with yours.

The train always works the same way.

Get out of the way easily as it does after each station.

Then it begins to chase himself lightly.

It doesn’t care that something might get in his way.

Sometimes the wagons are empty.

And then time fades, which was once the terror that burdens our days.

The train of life always goes forward and the stations can surprise you.

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