Gratzie Roma, e ciao!

Weird, spontaneous, and random freewriting:

I look outside the window and see pitch black. It’s too early to worry about what time it is, and I have to be at my meeting place at roughly the same time that my train arrives. Not happening.

Two red lights stare back at me from the outskirts of the train station as we are departing, most likely a train being serviced. The wheels grind against the cold steel rails and vibrate the car I’m in; we’re slowly but surely gaining speed. A train just passed, but it wasn’t a blur so I can tell that we haven’t been cleared for full speed yet. We just passed through the second largest train station of Florence, “Firenze Campo Marte.”

Thinking about later today, I realize how long ago it has been sine I have confessed. I’m going to try to do that today at the Vatican. So many people asked me to pray for them at school yesterday. I’ll keep my promise.

The woman seated across from me looks as though she has been having personal problems lately, and also looks like she’s headed to Rome for business. She’s trying to sleep in an awkward position, as anyone who has ever flown an overnight flight or train well knows that the seats aren’t the most comfortable things in the world. Her husband just came back to comfort her, possibly after the loss of a loved one.

It’s amazing to me how many people on campus call themselves religious, yet none of them go to their churches or synagogues or temples. Sometimes I feel as if I’m a lone piece of debris, scattered by the religious bomb that hit the world the generation before mine. “It’s amazing that you go to mass every weekend. I can’t even remember the last time I went. Maybe for Christmas last year.” Phrases like that are not all that uncommon anymore. It’s scary.

The train is moving along at top speed now, and I have to look into the distance in order to see things without having them blurred. There is an eerie fog that settles like a blanket over the ominous lake outside, and the first light of the sunrise is just beginning to utter its first breaths. Numerous cypress trees in the distance line the roads and stand tall like proud soldiers waiting to bravely serve their country.

After a nap, I realize that we’re here, in Rome already. The train operator announces the obvious, that we’re entering the Rome Termini station, in Italian of course. Time to put this laptop away, to rush off of the train, find a taxi, and see the new Pope in person for the very first time.

Grazie Roma e ciao!