will Writing Assignment 2

There is something about train tracks that always gets to me. When I hear a train rumbling by I think of freedom, moving on. I see train tracks everywhere I go in this small town. I can’t get away from them. Sometimes I wish I could just pack my bags and leave. Find a new a town, a new place where I can be whoever I want to be. I think I'll hit the road and go wherever the powers that be take me.
So you say you want to be jaded? Well, we'll see about that. You want to know what freedom really means. We'll see about that as well. We could go north or we could go south it doesn't matter to me. Let’s just drive your car, we could drive all day. Let’s just get the hell away from here. We'll be like bandits on the run, pilgrims searching for the unknown enlightenment that only the setting sun has seen. Because I am sick again, just plain sick to death of the sound of my own voice.
Let’s go to Chelsea, there is something about the buildings there that always brings me back. I dream about New York City sometimes and I can see the dark waves washing away the night. I see stars that look like suns exploding in the sky that have just now begun to fade away. Whenever I hear that song on the radio it takes me to the city, takes me away from here.
We could head west. Hop a train on its way to California and I've always wanted to go to Mexico. Living off nothing but taco bars and sweet sunshine we could finally fade away. We could do the things, all the things you want to. No one here really cares about us anyway. We could forget about everything and all the memories that keep you down. Simply let go of the things that holds us back. I'll buy some cowboy boots and we'll just drive. It's been so long since I've seen a palm tree.
Some say love is what saves us from ourselves. I say that love is a ghost train rumbling through the darkness, howling on the radio, haunting anyone who happens to see it. I see it every day as the sun is setting in the West. The moaning steel gets almost too loud that I can’t bear it, and then it slowly fades away to an echo in the distance. We could spend all our lives chasing it, following the train tracks until we reach the shimmering ocean on the other side. I'm not quite sure what I'm chasing anymore. Am I searching for freedom from the past and a small town following the ghost train that is love? Could that be the reason for my wanderings? A physical search for one big metaphor which is haunting love. Once you get a glimpse of it rolling on by you cannot resist following it. The irony is overwhelming. We’ll spend all our lives searching for freedom but in fact we have no other option.