Connie’s Reviews > Night Train > Status Update
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Connie
is 73% done
"I’m afraid to stay at home alone. There’s no one there, I don’t know what I’d do in an empty apartment. When you get old, the hardest thing to face is yourself."
— Sep 04, 2026 08:23AM
Connie
is 54% done
"Is that bad, not being normal? That just means you’re different from other people. How do you accomplish anything without being different?"
— Sep 04, 2026 06:42AM
Connie
is 50% done
“This is the ideal night train ride, drifting alone through a borderless landscape. The world is a flat, black surface, sliced apart by the even darker train, the wound healing instantly as the world settles back into tranquility.”
— Sep 04, 2026 06:40AM
Connie
is 39% done
"You’re adrift. If you didn’t focus your energy on one book or one essay at a time, you’d have lost your sense of direction long ago."
"Why can’t I just read and think? Why can’t knowledge be a goal in itself?"
“But what is it for?"
— Sep 04, 2026 06:27AM
"Why can’t I just read and think? Why can’t knowledge be a goal in itself?"
“But what is it for?"
Connie
is 24% done
“What is anyone doing with their lives except constantly rearranging things?”
— Sep 03, 2026 06:44AM
Connie
is 20% done
“You could never find such serenity and introspection during the day. When the sun shines on the world, I find it unbelievably chaotic. [...] You can’t even find a piece of ground to sit on peacefully. Why are we all so busy? Why can’t we sit quietly and allow the world to grow large around us? We won’t stop. Each of us wants to run faster than the next.”
— Sep 02, 2026 08:43AM
Connie
is 16% done
"When I was younger, I thought I’d be bored of I didn’t smoke or drink. Now when I feel blue, I just chew on a twig and that’s as good as any cigarette. Drinking DDT doesn’t solve anything—if it does then you don’t have real problems. Isn’t that right? That’s the human condition, there are fewer ways of attaining enlightenment than you imagine."
— Sep 02, 2026 08:24AM
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rated it 5 stars
Sep 01, 2026 08:40AM
“Ever since he was a kid, he’d fantasized about wandering the world. When his elementary school teacher asked the class what they’d like to do when they grew up, everyone clamored to name some lofty profession: scientist, politician, doctor, teacher, author. Then it was Munian’s turn: “I want to be a truck driver.” Right away the teacher and all his classmates doubled over laughing. Imagine aiming to be a truck driver! There must be something wrong with his brain. He was the only person in the class without ambition, and also the only one not laughing—instead, he was filled with terror.”
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“His hope was that Munian would achieve great things, though even becoming president wouldn’t be enough. He imagined his son rising so far above humanity that he could finally let go of all the resentment he’d swallowed from being yelled at by his passengers. But no, the little idiot wanted to drive a truck! The more he thought about it, the more furious he got. He’d wheeled his trishaw to the courtyard gate but came back to slap Munian across the other cheek, so hard his ears rang for days afterward.”