Trains can serve as conduits for many things: an analogy for human connection, a metaphor for mass displacement, or a self-perpetuating, self-contained system that could run for eternity given the right technology.

Trains can also be, well, trains. Sometimes I find myself standing inside the train, waving goodbye to faces that I may never see again. And, of course, sometimes I find myself waving the train goodbye.

The trains have always been quite punctual here in Taiwan, constantly accelerating towards one stop, then back to the other. I like to call this one of the few constants of the modern age: a variable that has and will always exist as long as there is someone to witness it.

When the first train was caught on film, the audience thought the projected train looked as realistic as an actual train approaching them; many scrambled out of the way before it warped through the projector’s fourth wall.

Sometimes, of course, the train doesn’t leave the station at all. My favorite memory of Germany was watching the Germans watch the train schedule as their U-Bahn was delayed by 40 minutes, seemingly a new record. Some grunted, some shrugged, and some were on their phones talking. The content of which I will keep confidential here out of respect, and, perhaps, partially because of my lack of understanding of Bavarian German.

Anyway, looks like my train to Munich has been delayed.