FIELD NOTE // FN-016 | LOCATION: F—-ed BART System, OAKLAND | DATE: 2025-12-22
Decoupled in the Rain
The rain is back. Not the mist, but the for real, for real rain. A steady roll served chilled—not cold—turning this part of the city into a dystopic cyberpunk industrial hellscape.
I’m here for it. At least visually.
I recorded the audio above today. Listen to the hypnotizing sound of BART on wet tracks in the tunnel. It isn’t a screech; it’s a rush of pressurized air and singing rails. A steady, electric drone. A mechanical lullaby.
Under the ugly glow of sodium vapor lights, the morning feels cinematic. I watched the previous train effortlessly glide down the dark path, red lights streaking through the stormy morning sky. I thought I was close. I thought I was next.
But then, the system grinds. The familiar anxiety sets in. The doors stay open. The train doesn't move.
"There is a medical emergency at Fruitvale."
And just like that, we are decoupled. The train disconnects from the third rail, and the hum of the city dies. This is the sacrifice for saving the planet…stranded in a metal tube, staring out at wet chain-link fences and concrete, while Lyft surges prices to comically cruel heights.
In the sudden silence, it’s just us. Me, the damp air, and the guy playing a "Russia vs Ukraine" explainer video at full volume. Why do we play stuff with no headphones?
It brings me back to that old feeling: There is always someone watching, or forcing you to watch.
I try to stay "small." I try to just exist in the corner, neither above nor below, just a commuter trying to get from Point A to Point B. But the world doesn't let you just be. It demands you listen to its noise.
