by Tomorrow's Man
July 07, 2003
Road Notes: Somewhere Over America
Don't know when this plane will fly again or if it will with me in it; one never knows a thing until it's been done, and nothing is ever done before someone else has laughed about it. A trip can be made without drugs, though I could have used them this time, as my mind, despite finding open doors wider than ever, found others that I had no choice but to close.
Everybody's got to have someplace they call home. I think mine is somewhere in this airplane.