The means of capsual travel by anything but bicycle.

Car, plane, train.
There is a striking and unwelcome feeling of unease
And disbelief upon arrival in a place via these afforementioned avenues of transportation.
Breaking up the world. Not seen as one large grid, but rather a disjoined set of box rooms sitting and waiting, arrival, viewing then departing.

The effort and enjoyment. The journey. Lost ideals.
Our history, nomadic. Constantly travelling, uncertain, the elusive contentment driving us onward. Where are we all now?

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