Airports, so much in such a small space. I could sit here and talk about all the things we do here, busy, busy, busy... but the real grace of airports is memories. The coming and going, the hello and goodbye. Of tears there are many, of joy and sorrow, but always that of the missing. Its a place where the apparent order grinds so thin, you can almost feel the chaos raging over from the other side. Such a squished dimension is the fourth, ever pushing from all sides. Like a horde on the dancefloor, it writhes to its own dark cadence. Never happy with where its at, always trying to live on elsewhere down its little string. Humming, thrumming, simply buzzing; like a bumblebee content to share her secret flower patch. So like us in that, time doesn't wish to die.
Its screams echo on; waves building in harmonic phases until it becomes a wave so strong they sweep us away. And just when you cant take anymore... When you feel crushing, eclipsing vibration tearing now apart, phases shift and slip. One song crashes against another, valleys slam peaks into dust. Dunes roll over green pastures, and the four winds swirl in madness. The vale slams shut again... Snap back to reailty... Trapped into gravity...
Im sitting here and its far to quiet. Only cold metal lights shine to brightly. Their humming tubes sing songs so somber, they only serves to underline whats hidden away. I feel so heavy, fighting through this slugish air. I want to whisper to the walls... "Wait for me. I'll be right back. We still sing for you. Wait for me."
There’s no where to go until were gone. There’s nothing to do that matters, so lets do it all. There’s nothing to say that hasn’t been said, so lets say anything. There’s no other game in town, so lets play. There’s nothing to lose, so lets risk it all. Oasis, lost.
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