we were standing on the edge of a railway platform, watching trains pass by. a stock of freight cars rattled before us, clanking sharply, a long succession of dark metal forms, moving so fast we hardly noticed spaces between them. we have smoked a few joints of weed, so he was talking his usual quasiphilosophic shit though I could barely hear him because of the noise. the freight cars were flashing before my eyes so fast that my blurred doped mind almost couldn't stand it. suddenly I realized the whole situation being quite hilarious and started laughing my ass out, looking at the rushing raspy stock in front of me. Sergey stared at me slightly worried, but in a few moments the stock suddenly ended, and I waved my hands crossing them before my face, like to shrug off the enchantment of speed, sound and chemical reactions processing in my system, indicating to him I was ok. though I didn't lose control even for a moment then. I never do, actually. sometimes I think that's sad cause it means I can't really relax, but on second thought I understand that in general it's for the better.