2007-09-04
Some snow would be nice
In the light of the sun
Is there anyone
Oh it has begun
Oh dear you look so lost
Eyes are red
And tears are shed
This world you must have crossed
You said you don't know me
And you don't even care
Oh yeah
You said you don't know me
And you don't wear my chains
Oh yeah
Essential yet appealed
Carry all your thoughts
Across an open field
When flowers gaze at you
They're not the only ones
Who cry when they see you
You said you don't know me
And you don't even care
Oh yeah
You said you don't know me
And you don't wear my chains
Oh yeah
She said I think I'll go to Boston
Think I'll start a new life
I think I'll start it over
Where no one knows my name
I'll get out of California
I'm tired of the weather
Think I'll get a lover
And fly him out to Spain
Oh yeah I think I'll go to Boston
I think that I'm just tired
I think I need a new town
To leave this all behind
I think I need a sunrise
I'm tired of a sunset
I hear it's nice in the summer
Some snow would be nice
Oh yeah
You don't know me
And you don't even care
Oh yeah
Boston
No one knows my name
Yeah
No one knows my name
No one knows my name
Yeah
Boston
Where no one knows my name
- Boston by Augustana
An airport at dawn, the first rays of sunlight spilling in through the viewing gallery windows. Watching planes come and go: the boarding, the taxi down the runway (my favourite), the take-off, the landing, the alighting.
The lady on the intercom says something and you recognize the strings of numbers. Pick up your stuff, maybe even get someone (if they're there) to give you one last push on the luggage trolley. It's fast, like the plane's taxi down the runway, only on a smaller scale, and you're inches away from the ground. People give you weird looks when you zoom past them. The security guards are probably used to it: nuts getting joyrides on luggage trolleys aren't the biggest of their concerns (as long as you don't run over anyone). It's exciting, it's exhilarating, and then it stops.
The lady on the intercom says something again. You get off, you make sure nothing fell out on the way, you say goodbye. The smiles, the hugs, the waves, the well-wishes and yes, the tears. You go through the doors flanked by more security (they don't look too scary), you go to the counters where they stamp your passports and maybe smile and mean what they say.
You go through the departure gates, you walk down the long corridor and wish that you could have just one last taxi down it in a luggage trolley. One last time. But there are no luggage trolleys here, there's no one to push you and laugh with you and tell you you're crazy and that it's their turn next. So you walk, you sit, you look out the window (window seats are the best), and you wonder.
Will I ever go through that?
What would I be looking forward to?
What would I be leaving behind?
| You Are Cookie Monster |
 You are usually feeling: Hungry. Cookies are preferred, but you'll eat anything if cookies aren't around. You are famous for: Your slightly crazy eyes and usual way of speaking How you life your life: In the moment. "Me want COOKIE!" |
HAHAHA
feimao at 11:55 a.m.