The station is life in miniature.
you like or do not want, to live, to reach your goal.
The time is shared by all those who wait on your own train, those who take a different direction and those who are still waiting for those who descend from a carriage.
Each look gives off waiting, hurry, tiredness, longing, desire, effort, hope, joy.
Whose side and upon arriving.
And even of those who remain.
The ticket is always a price. As in life.
Although it is one way.
So hope you find yourself with a girl who is about to face a job interview.
Direction: hope.
you discover amused by two grandparents who are asking why their grandchild has fifteen years of skipping school.
Direction: growth.
Then smile with a mother who can not get her baby to sleep.
Direction: serenity.
You wonder why that guy has his face ever so dark as not to raise his eyes.
Direction: sadness.
you want to know the contents of the clipboard into a man's career, asking her how it will work day.
Direction: curiosity.
listening to a caller and you wonder what, that blonde girl who browse Vanity Fair, must speak with Henry that evening.
Direction: everyday life.
And then ... then you close in your solitude, trying to study because time is precious, but most of all, waiting for the train reaches its destination to begin your new adventure.
Through the window you can see pieces of the city you know and do not know.
Those who do not know you cast on the future: maybe one day visit.
those you know you throw on the past, all those memories written on the walls of a city that continues to live even if it no longer belongs to you.
Even this is life made.
finally arrives.
and review people who goes out and comes back, in a time that becomes forever because you tireless traveler.
Life never stops.
For every elderly person who dies there is a child that is born.
For every love there is one that ends and starts asking you to live.
For every life that he hopes there is one despairs.
Because for every train that goes there One of them starts.
No matter what track and no matter in what direction.
The thought that grabs you while screeching rails and the doors open match with the title of a beautiful play by Pirandello: be.
Who do you expect with what you expect, with whom you expected and now he does more with what you expect from life and from yourself.
No matter where and no matter when.
Import be.
Because life never write alone.
know more today than yesterday.
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