Part 1:
Stream of (un)Consciousness/Observations from Jay Eff Kay.
Can't keep my eyes open. Flight was good, but started way too fast. Couldn't sleep because of the rocking of our aeronautical vessel, and was too preoccupied scoping out the other passengers and envisioning our own version of LOST.
Sitting, again. This time in the airport. McDonalds to the right of us. Sbarro to the left of us. Starbucks behind us.
At least this time I can stretch my legs.
We have landed in a strange and foreign land called Jay Eff Kay. We are not alone in this country. There are many other humans here. They all have the same look of exhaustion and resignation, as if they all are saying "We stuck here and don't know when we can leave." In truth, I am beginning to wonder whether or not leaving is even possible. It seems entirely feasible that we may have landed in an alternate reality that is impossible to escape. Impossible. Oh well.
At least there's greasy Chinese food here.
JFK...
Junk Food King...
Jazy Fat Kissinger...
Jack Frack Krack...
Jay Eff Kay.
JFK.
Too little sleep.
Eyes going fuzzy.........head falling dangerously close to keys....
Brain shutting down.....
JFK.
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"Sitting, again. This time in the airport [JFK]. McDonalds to the right of us. Sbarro to the left of us. Starbucks behind us." That description made me think of Alfred, Lord Tennyson's The Charge of The Light Brigade:
ReplyDeleteCannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse & hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.