11 Jully 2007, moving
My head is pounding louder than the noise that molds me.
Give me a St. John’s aspirin because I can't take these hosts pacing back and forth or some other iteration after another.
These days on migraine, discomfort ability.
I hear loud introductions.
Hollering with drums.
Expecting this will relieve me from these walls taking me to crazy.
That or if some franchise has some THC.
It sought to seize my mind mentally. I remain externally well.
I’m distraught in my head, which is beginning to swell.
My forhead starts to sweat but it's a fair seventy degrees.
It's been since yesterday evening when I could actually feel my knees.
My heart is skipping beats and my veins just might explode.
And counting just won't help because I learned that by rote.
I see myself attacking the floor.
Sitting at this seat is entirely a joke.
Or at least it would be if I expressed I was provoked.
But there’s nothing I can do as I wait for three hours.
I want an alternative to conclude this sour time.
They won’t ascend because the ground wants a shower.
My brother won’t sit still because he didn't get any sleep that night.
And he's too amazed to cooperate or to sit still in what he'd consider a blight.
Other kids piqued my tensity as their parents let them cry.
There are a million positions I want to try but only one place I want to lie.
Like read...
Nothing, not even to entail.
So I turn XM up but it doesn’t do much justice.
It's imminent that the flashing navigation will sound it out.
Protected with blankets, impatient of this phase.
Then the navigator begins to graze.
Right at that moment, it quiets down and it must have been perfect timing ecause on comes William Orbit.
I can't believe we're moving.
So I relaxed-- I sat, my seat back for the ride.
I wiped my sweat. I rubbed my knees.
My heart chasing, veins racing to see which could convince my blood to get me more lightheaded.
The tips of my fingers paced “bumpety-bump”.
I was glad I was beginning to wane.
Finally enunciating gasps, impertinent and proud—overseeing agriculture loud.
Interrupting nocturnal naps, sending light above.
The rain gleaming, screaming to get notice.
The windows flicker from inside, getting moist.
This option, the choice is to deal with the jousting of this plane.
And yet another anecdote that's driving me insane.
As we arose I grew a lump into my throat.
Lopsided seats, luggage fleeing to one side.
The whole thing reminded me of that Drop ride.
And I prayed to God we wouldn’t drop and couldn’t resist a contradicting test.
Stupid twisted mental mind-set makes me panic.
I turned off any anti-Semitic, satanic subjects.
All I heard was the fans winding up oh so fast.
And the echo of my thoughts begging we wouldn't collapse.
