Tuesday, 1 December 2009

we are all friends. we are all enemies.

How does one cram so much into so little?
Laurel stared at her suitcase which still refused to close.
Eight hours earlier, she'd been dancing, feathers in her hair.
Seven hours earlier, she'd been swimming in open waters.
Two hours earlier, she'd been exchanging goodbyes and warm embraces.
An hour earlier, she was sleeping on a bus, the seat worn by previous exhausted departees.
Now she was standing in the check in queue at Chiang Mai airport.

Laurel Halo - The Cult of Optimism

Chiang Mai to JFK could take a day, or more of total transit.
Waiting with headphones, journals to scribble the time away.
Calculations of "am I nearer to home or am I still on vacation?"
You can't forget that easily.

Eleven hours later being rudely awoken by the hostess.
Thirteen hours later drinking actual coffee in the stopover zone.
Thirteen and a half hours later running for the shuttle train.

Twenty six hours later, slumping into the back of a cab.
The journey spent trying to reassemble the broken Balinese clove
cigarettes in your pocket into something salvageable.
Twenty seven hours later, victory collapse on the apartment floor.

In about fourteen actual hours, she'll take to the stage in Manhattan at the Lit Lounge.
If I could get there in time, I'd probably go. Watch out for the Ambrosia EP.


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