8/19/12, age 18

Some are afraid of flying, but I love it. It lets me live a whole different life,

One where the outside world shows me the most perfect sea I’ve ever seen

And fireflies and fairy dust glitter far beneath the surface. 

People seem so calm there, all agreeing on going to some magical place

Where they too can dream up whatever they miss in their own lives.

He sits there next to me, music blaring in his ears, a pencil in hand,

Scribbling numbers in the squares on the pages.

The little packages remind me of simpler times, when things could

Be shared among a group fairly, without argument or resentment.

Pages of a book become blurred as I flip through them dutifully

To occupy my idol mind as if they were a map of the happenings

Of a past life, one where I lived adventurously.

Maybe a screen sits before me, showing moving pictures,

And before we begin observing, I accidently move the dial too much,

Hurting my ears as the volume rings through the earbuds.

Once the trip comes to an end, my life goes back to the ordinary,

But I remember the shimmering lights and the wind-swept clouds,

Making what I’m about to do a little more fantastic, a living daydream.