The soles of my shoes are incredibly worn down. The rocks along the abandoned railroad tracks hurt as they further puncture the holes on the bottoms of my tennis shoes. Leaning up against the concrete wall while the camera exposed for 30 seconds I realized how tired I was for only sleeping four hours the previous night. Beneath the bridge cars fly by, people come and go. Time forgets the trains that once ran on these tracks and I ponder what I'm doing and why.