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freedom almost killed me, but thats alright
here I am at 2:05am, being lulled back to sleep by the train that sounds totally different at night than when the sun is up.. the horn doesnt blow, the tracks dont clank, the wheels dont screech, no one's left anything on the tracks for it to tear apart the way a sail boat glides through water, and no kids running toward with with there hands full of projectiles. Trains are part of the environment.. I dont really think there are trainS, just one train that travels as far down the tracks as your eyes can see in one direction, waits a while, and then starts over again with a different set of box cars. box cars are neet too, Ive broken into ones on a stopped train before, its pretty neet how each one is just devoted to carring a massive amout of somthing, to where there's so much people wouldnt even concider trying to steal it.. but I and my friends still did think about it.. because if somthing is free and you can think of a way to use it or keep it somewhere until it comes in handy then it's probably worth spending some time on doing so. but we didnt even have our permits then, and there was no way we were getting a truck there, then we throught about using backpacks to transport bricks that we found in one of the compartments so that we could build somthing, or sell them to whoever would want to buy bricks, because they really are expensive now days incase you didnt know, but we decided that with all the time and effort it would take to do that, that we could just go get jobs and it would be more effecient, then we realized that if we had jobs we probably wouldnt have been breaking into box cars, and then we thought that maybe we were a couple of lazy bums, so we jogged, and ran, and used a bunch of these train parts that were just flat pieces with rims around them where the big red containers were supposed to sit as a ninja training course, and we ran all the way down the thing, racing with one person walking across a 5 inch wide piece of steel over a story off the gravel ground on each side, and one jumping across gaps in the rusty, oiled bottom of the things for about 3/4 of a mile, and then we raced back jumping over wierd rusted levers and piles of railroad spikes and burnt logs. we found a bunch of wierd stuff under the tracks where they crossed a stream, there was a can of pink spraypaint that had left wierd arrows all over the support beams, and a playboy magazine from the 80s that had been left out in the rain. That was also the day that I almost died along with my russian friend. we were all sittingontop of a boxcar, looking at how the tracks faided out into the horizon, and then we saw one really strange container that wasnt rusted, or covered in graffiti or anything. So we went and stared at it, getting our hopes up about what was inside. It was royal blue, the large piston like locking mechagnism and the wide lever that was ment for two people to handle, made it look like the thing was a vault on wheels. We hoped that it was filled with Xboxes, which we all throught we'd never be able to afford but now we all own at least one. We all started pulling on the door like a pack of gorillas because we didnt understand by looking at the thing how it was supposed to be opened, until finally we found out that a pin had to be removed for 2 handles to pop out, which connected together and rotated clockwise when enough force was put on it. So my russing friend jumped on one side and hung from it with all his weight, and I bent my knees under the other side and pushed my sholder into it will all my strenght. It turned a little at a time with each heave, and began to get a little easier as we progressed. I took a break for a second to look at what exactly we were doing, and saw that the lever had been pulling the piston locks out of steel holes at the top and bottom of the door, then I bagan to read a small sign that was over to the side while I got back into my position to finishing opening the door when I saw a picture with a man, similar to the ones that are on gentlemens' bathroom lables, being crushed by a door that looked just like the one that I was forcing open at that moment. Before I could even gasp my other friend shoved me away from what was about to kill us all and yelled pointing at the sign. we all looked and gasped and ran away from the place as if it with a little more appreciation for how nice life it. Not just because we bearly avoided being crushed by a huge steel door, but because we had spent the day being free.
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