Flying my daze away

SDC10252
Originally uploaded by faultyplans

Enter this wetland area where no man can walk. Flying over it, feeling like now you're truly in the thicket. Anchorage was in the middle of the woods. Naknek, this town of two hundred, is buried in nothingness. Listening to the hum of the engine, as you would listen to the hum of a harley.. listening to this hum is hypnotic. I hear the tape recordings my mom would leave me as a child. The ones that were used for falling asleep without sucking a thumb. The little induced state where my best friend, a lucky star would come and fly me around. I imagine the sound of her voice as we bank in the turbulent air. I close my eyes as the tape directs. I close them, and relax my arms and legs as we fall through the clouds. The greens of the landcape, the green of best-friend-star-nebula. The green of the blood moving through my eyelids.
Suddenly, I'm not reminded of this star, but my attachment back home. My little one. The love, the cake. The lovecake. I am reminded of her, but she is busy doing her, living my future four hours before I can. My toes tense up and the plane falls steadily towards the ground. A controlled free-fall to the fly fest below. Pick up my cup as I open these tired eyes and chew off my stress. Crunch the ice between my throbbing teeth. Chew the cup. Chew the cola too, but it falls out my mouth and speckles my sweater. We make another bank. And I think about purples and greens. I think of fairy girls bopping about. The Scottish horse fairy. The drowning horse in the river that all men with kind hearts try to save. The same horse nays and drags the quasi-heros body beneath the surface. Drowns the helpless humane human and goes about his day. The horse that steals men away. The fairy that murders. I close my eyes, think of the star. The horse shaped star. I think of lovecake.
I close these eyes of mine, i ponder divinity and death. The plane nears the ground and the nostalgia of anchored life leaves. Be it focus, be it game-face. Maybe even the high and adderall. Close these eyes and think of the succubus horse. Reactive mind bomb he said. Reactive mind bomb she left. Shouldn't have called maybe. Maybe it was her focus, her game-face. Maybe it was her high or the adderall, but the conversation stood stagnant, and I felt more alone. The hypnotic voice of my mother left me. The hum of the plane's engine left and we end the taxi. The damn best-friend-star-buddy-leading-me-away-from-sucking-my-thumb-as-a-little-child left. And alone as I call, I am left.