Baltimore To Hartford

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's essentially a stream-of-consciousness piece that is literally what I was thinking on a plane ride.

Submitted: February 01, 2010

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Submitted: February 01, 2010

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Baltimore to Hartford. Seated. Comfortable. No one is next to me yet, so this bodes well. It's rainy outside. I like the clouds and gloominess of it all. Unfortunately, this doesn't allow me to comment on the ever-shrinking landscape, as I had wanted to. Damn. My seat is on the left side with the engine in the view of my window. One more seat forward and the wing wouldn't exist. One seat back and it would be the only thing. The white noise of the plane is familiar at this point. It becomes just that, white noise. Someone asks if her bag will destroy my guitar, I politely say no. Someone sits next to me. FUCK. He's not that big, so it's not too bad, but damn. \"Plenty of room in the back\" the stewardess says over the intercom. Still, theres a person next to me. This plane is ilder than the one I was on earlier. The armrests angled steel, the trays yellowed plastic. The plane doesn't accept cash. I knew this already, but it's still infuriating. I don't think I'd uy anything, but still. Two people aren't on board. Two blank spots, at the very least. And STILL, someone is sitting next to me. The lady who was asking about my guitar is talking about me, hrm. This bothers me. The overhead bins close. We push off in 5 minutes. The weather in Hartfrd is the same as here. YES. An airline man is looking worriedly at the bin with my guitar in it. Hrm. This bothers me. I look out the window at the yellow and red painted lines. I'm not sure what they're for. I see a man take a stroller or something out of the plane. I miss what he does with it. THey ask us to turn off our phones. No shit. The guy next to me on the last flight ignored the rules about phones and electronics. It bothered me. THe steward lies about a \"cell phone detector\". Anyone addicted enough to their phones to risk themselves in a plane doesn't give a shit about a sensor. Man in front of me says he dated a girl now in parliament. Keeps changing story. Sounds like shit. Says she almost became head of her party. They baby us through the safety procedures. We push off. We have life vests under our seats. Cool. I already know this, but still, cool. Non-smoking, including the bathroom. No tampering. No standing in the front. Oxygen mask demo. Whee. Third time today. Boring the first. If a small child needs assistance, help yourself first. I know why they do this, but I always see this as selfish. We hobble oto the runway. I fear this part may be illegible, so I strain to keep it intact. The cabin lights dim. I feel guilty for having my light on and window open. THis is short-lived. I think we're about to take off. We halt, maybe not. A plane next to us seems to be going first, because we go behind it. We aren't taking off now then. I hope. We hobble further down the runway, no whooshing yet, no acceleration, no liftoff. Just bumping and wavering at a constant speed. I see some coolish buildings. Gloomy as well. We slow down. Dammit. Seat belt lights. We're cleared for departure. Whooshing, almost. False start. I watch the other plane take off, almost, but it's out of view moments before. Damn. We are stopped at the end of the runway. Anticipation. My window is filled with the parking garage, whee. BAM. Whooshing, acceleration. FInally. We zoom fast, and we're off. I see the various cityscapes get smaller, but only for a moment, because we are nearly instantly engulfed in clouds. The view from my window appears to be an ever-brightening white universe, with nothing but out plane in it. It's eerie. Everywhere I look outside, nothing but blank whiteness. Suddenly we're above the clouds, mostly. It looks like an angelic wonderland. We go through the second layer of clouds, and, lo and behold, the sun. The cloud landscape is wonderful. It's a strange sight. 10,000ft. Electronics and drinks. We skate along the tops of billowing clouds, almost enveloped, but not quite. We are fully above them again. I see a 'caution' on the engine. It has to do with leading edge slats. I do not understand. This bothers me. Hrm. The stewardess is sad and broken-down looking, but sounds happy and bubbly. Strange. We turn and the sun is in my eyes. Stewardess arrives. I order a cranberry juice. I look out the window. This is a mistake. There is a green dot of sunlight residue burned in my vision. I blink. It's still there. Pink around the edges. God it's annoying. The window no longer offers entertainment. I can't eavesdrop over the rumble of the plane. My ears pop. I start thinking. I think about who I'm going to miss. I think about her. Sigh. Her. I've been reminded of her about a hundred times today. I've had the fantasy that we'd end up being on the same plane and we'd sit next to each other and chat for hours. This is entirely irrational. I swear, for a second on the second part of the first plane today, someone looked like her, only for a second though. It scared the hell outta me. I \"saw\" her in someone else yesterday too. Hrm. This bothers me. Methinks I'm just a wee bit obsessed. Hrm. The stewardess gives out peanuts, I decline, so the guy next to me recieves two. Lucky guy. I try to avoid going back to thinking of her, but it's unavoidable. I thought aobut her with most ever song I listened to today. \"Something I Can Never Have\", \"The Perfect Drug\", even \"The Taste of Ink\" somehow. I'm going to dwell on her too much this trip. Shit. Seatbelt sign is off. Drinks are passed out. I put down my yellowed tray. She gets to the guy next to me and leaves for the next batch. Lucky guy. I wait for at least a minute for my juice. I take a deep breath, crack my joints. Yawn. I'm tired. I haven't really slept since 8:30, yesterday morning. Unless you count the five minutes I phased out during \"Every Day Is Exactly the Same\" when I was listening to \"With Teeth\" earlier. I finally get my juice. It's good. My lip hurts from the coldness of the ice. Wtf. The sun is gone, I notice. This reminds me of her, somehow. I get a pit in my stomach. Deep breath. I need to get over her. She's made up her mind and I have to respect it. But I like her too damn much. On wednesday, when Numb Lock was recording for the last time, every single song reminded me of her except \"Xenophobe\". \"With Me\", \"Undefined BLiss\", \"Taken Root\", all her. For gods sake, Howie is leaving and I'm going to be waiting for him. \"Taken Root\" fits perfectly. WHy was I thinking of her? I was on the verge of tears yesterday during band practice, I'm going to miss it. Sigh. Deep breath. I take a sip of my juice. Turbulence, but no seatbelt sign. Hrm. This bothers me. Ears pop, again. I yawn. Fixed. We're in a white universe again. It feels like we're heading downward already. Hrm. Already? Lights are appearing on the wing. Lots of turbulence. 70 miles out. Beginning descent. I take a careful sip. The fading in-and-out white light on the wing isn't in sync with the orange blinking one. Hrm. This bothers me. Another sip. People behind me seem to be talking about fishing. I had my suspicions before from my overhearing the word 'rainbow'. I assumed 'trout' for some reason. I see rain zoom past the plane. It's awesome. I think we're in a storm cloud. I feel heavy. We must be accelerating somehow. I want to reach my hand out the window. But as I think that, the rushing rain stops. I see a streak of oranged sky. It's beautiful. The person behind me definitely says rainbow trout. Yesssss. Another Sip. I need to put the tray up. I try to quickly finish my juice. Drop my pen. Cold cup between my legs. Just ice. Another strip of sunset. Even more brilliant. I see city lights. Yessss. I see thin strips of lit highway. I see moving specks of light that must be cars. I see them magnify. My sense of space is skewed. It seems like I could jump out and just step down 5-7 feet. I envision doing this. The fucking WORD \"envision\" reminds me of her. We turn. I get a better view. I see a Best Buy. We turn again. The city lights thin out. The wheels are out, I imagine, because there feels to be drag on the plane, as if we'd landed, which we have certainly not done. I see a river. I can see individual cars. Lights thin out further. I'd probably be able to see people if it wasn't so dark. Highways are thick stripes. Many warehouses, we must be close. Houses, tons of 'em. Maybe not close. BAM.I notice we're on the runway and already were landed. We decelerate. It's fucking bumpy. We remain sitting. They thank us for flying with them. They welcome us to Harford. We taxi messily. Large bumps and jumps. This takes a while, so we must be pretty far from the terminal. Then I see it, s I guess not. We slow ever-so-slightly and I hear the whir of a halting engine. The white noise lowers. We arrive at gate 2. It looks the same as BWI. The cabin lights turn on. We rise. I get my stuff. I remove the cold cup from my crotch. The ride is over. I've finally arrived.


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