Volando (remix)

-

  • Contact case
  • Charge AirPods 
  • Glasses  (carry on) 
  • Set alarm for 6:20 am

Usually, I'm all for a change in scenery but this is the first time I feel like I don’t need one. North Dakota is nice enough but it still feels too new. Part of me wishes I was going back home to MO, back to my comfort zone. Sometimes I miss knowing how each day was going to go and that not much could change that. 
As I head towards B59, I see the name on the gate. Gate 59 shares its seating area with flight 4751, headed straight to Springfield. It could be a coincidence or it could be my chance. If I snuck onto that plane do you think they would stop me? It's not like people are lining up to board, seats all occupied. I could trade tickets with the gray-haired man with the patchwork denim jacket, an eagle flying across the back. I think he'd like the Dakotas, he looks like he'd fit right in. 
Small world. I miss my chance as their doors close and mine open. I want to be home in bed, just waking up and getting ready for a nice and boring Wednesday. But when I open my eyes we're landing, the rickety plane teetering back and forth before hitting the tarmac with a jolt. I don’t know why I was worried about what jeans to bring, everyone here wears Wranglers. The men all file off the plane and I am the only one in the women's room. We're back in the country, trucks driving 30 miles an hour down Dickinson's roads. They declare that nothing has changed and I believe it. I see trees and their leaves make me nostalgic but confused as to where I am now. New house, new town, where are the mountains? Where are the crunchy leaves that color the yards? 
I feel like I won’t be here long enough to understand the layout. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

De Peru a Barcelona a Miami baby

-
¡Ponte vía! Salí del avión como estrella. Onda: esa escalera gigante, donde bajan los presidentes y famosos, esperados por periodistas y cámaras. Pero no había nadie esperándome, solo una micro para llevar a todos a inmigración, porque no era la presidente, y estábamos en Perú nomas. Después de dos o tres horas en el avión, el aire se sentía rico, mejor que el congelador en que habíamos llegado.  Tomaba mis pocos pasos peruanos hacia la micro. Me hizo pensar en si podría decir que había visitado este país, ya que olía el viento fresco, y que tenía que esperar tres horas y medio, hasta mi próximo vuelo. Mi cargador es una carga: Aun no había la información de mi puerta, solo diez minutos de wifi gratis. Tuve tiempo para decirles a mi familia que mi avión había llegado bien, y no entendía el acento peruano, dejándome con 13% de batería. Mi cargador está casi roto; tengo hambre y no tengo soles, tengo 750 pesos chilenos. Mientras caminaba por el aeropuerto, me di cuenta que casi no
Read more

Funk

-
Or as I've been calling it, the mid October slump. I have given up on the idea that I will ever wake up early enough to straighten my hair before class, accepting that a messy bun on the top of my head is the best it is going to get. I give up on finding the perfect outfit for Missouri's forever changing temperatures. I have renounced my perfect attendance, in hope to make it through this semester. Midterms were last week: And I wrote three papers, had two tests, and made one collage. I spent hours studying metamorphic rocks and crustal deformation only to get a 79 percent. I wrote papers about things I really did not care about. At all. I used a blog entry and the most random photos for my last fashion assignment. I took my perfect attendance and flushed it down the drain because why not? Was it worth it? HECK YES IT WAS. I made it to about two classes, slept in till one, and lounged around the house in my underwear, because I knew that this would be my last opportunity
Read more

Pretty lil something

-
I was transported back to that day. My feet were in the sand toes curling in the wet grains and I'm not in my kitchen anymore I'm laughing and yelling talking to the ocean talking to you drawing your name and mine in the sand and I feel sick to my stomach because the doubt has vanished and I know that in that moment I was free and I had never been more in love I remember the sky and tossing the shells back into the ocean except for the ones I kept to paint with you. In the midst of cleaning out my jewelry bag i stumbled across the shells that traveled from the pacific to Missouri and I want to break one but I can't because they are still so beautiful and although I think about it less and less everyday I can't stop my mind today, as I tuck away the shells in a safe place, where they will stay, beautiful and whole.
Read more