subtitled: thoughts during a planeflight
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i made the scanner beep, at terceira airport, and no one come to search me, the official just looked at my large pants pockets and smiled me forward, and i missed the days i flew from s. miguel and was, inevitably, hand searched by the some bald guy, always pleasantly smiling, a candid smile i come to like, and now, it seems, miss.
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(because of a 9/11 report on the tv, in the waiting roam), life should not be about wishing pain to your fellow human, although i understand someone's cruel moves when said someone have nothing important to loose (because it was stolen), and i even admit i wished for something worst to another human beeing (human, here, in a very foggy sense).
life should be about eating spicy food at lunch and fresh salads at dinner; making illegal (in some countries) sex to your boy/girl friend(s); listening to (how much as you like) loud music; do your job (should have one, obvious) as if it wasn't paid; dream crazy mad dreams and thank the lord, daily, for madness; appreciate your kids growing before your eyes, by themselves, free style; hug and be hugged by friends and familiars every day, several times a day; fight your battles proudly, win or loose, land vertical, ass or horizontal, but always stand up proudly, alone or with a little help.
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and now i board.
and now i board.
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i got a window seat, cause i use to arrive early to check-in, in a 3 seats row. on the other two there is a couple and, as i was seating, the guy asks for my ticket (by the window) and say mine is the corridor seat. i pretend to believe, even apologize, and "give" his gal the window, and everybody gets happy.
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damn (i'm taking off as this happens), across the corridor, in the opposite window, there is a fair maid, stressed, chest pumping disorderly, and i want to jump 3 seats to old her breath. well, not her breath, exactly, but all it's contents.
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i'm a mp3 neofite, just loving it. there is something to write about listening to imelda may when nobody else does. there, i wrote about it.
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now, the neighbor couple starts making out (maybe an over statement, but not by far) and i so want to jump the fair maid, now sleeping, head to the window, dreaming....
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the mp3 shout "let me out, let me out, let me out", but i have no shoot.
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the plane might be the other one listening to my mp3, cause it's rocking. the pilot says something about turbulence, so, he is, definitely not, listening to "johny got a boom boom", like we do.
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and now plays wagner's walkure! how perfect can the world be, my friends?
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"senhores passageiros, sejam bem vindos a lisboa", says the captain of the ship, ah, plane.
i'm broke'n rich, landed and still high. will be with mines, today, with my gal tomorrow or the next, and my kid soon (although never soon enough). i wouldn't want it any other way (and even if i wanted, didn't know how).
so, i'll get my lugage, find a wireless spot, edit and post this.
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