Stuck On The Plane

:: Originally written 29.6.2009 7:17 PM

Stuck on the plane, typing a way out of boredom.

Hey neighbor. What do you want me to write about? How about an alternative to waiting to get off the plane? How about a chance to wait on what words might appear next on this screen?

Being bored is pretty much the state of most of our lives. It’s the being confined part that crawls under our skin while we are waiting for a plane to land and unload us all into tubes and ports—where we will wait some more for our baggage to be unloaded next, so that we can take it home with us.

People on the plane. Listen to this. The lady that is walking down the isle, "stretching her legs," is looking for leftover Frito’s. She loves them, and is waiting to glean them from the seat pockets. She puts them in her large Frito bag of a purse. She is anxious for a taco salad.

People on the plane. Listen to this. The television that grabs your captive attention is feeding you the dreams that you will have tonight. Beware of the three dogs and the fat boy with the fro. They will only keep moving their lips and telling you nothing.

Only two more hours of the five to go. Only two more. Just keep the fingers moving in the case that they will speed up time as they tap out the minutes.

People on the plane. Listen to this. We were all fed chicken wraps for dinner, and we ate it. Don’t we all feel better?

People on the plane. I am typing this to you. We are all party people. Old and young. Shaking our asses with the turbulence. Bobbing our heads to the rocking of the wings. High above the ground… above the clouds… trapped in a party plane. Crawling through the isles waiting for our turn to go pee. Some will shit and flush it away inside, stored below our feet.

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