inflight entertainment

so i made it home tonight.. from the tour, via edinburgh.. unexpectedly..

my last (and recently most haunting) memory of anything Tracer AMC is from 2 days ago. I was sitting in-between our bass player Alexander Donald and a young japanese girl whose name i don’t know, for the second time in the middle seat (muffled rage).. It was a 12 hour flight, the girl to the right of me was sneezing wildly into her white mask she was wearing, while Alexander continually writhed in some sort of performance art-worthy imitation of being killed slowly by a very thin snake.. everysooften he muttered something about being dead or that he can’t hold water down because he keeps throwing it up so maybe he should try and get some lucozade.. i advised against the lucozade and proceded to turn the volume up on my inflight headphones to try and drown out the groans, while staring straight ahead__ mentally fighting the invisible virusses..

[girl to right devours the disgusting beef dish like a velociraptor]

6 hours into the flight the ampeg composer’s situation seemed odd as the alexander had been bright and even chirpy in Narita airport; he had duly informed me he had consumed a cheese and tomato pizza and notified myself and Misa of the wi-fi’s signal strength in certain areas of the departure lounge.. however the transition to the aircraft must have triggered some kind of internal viral threat which had been lurking deep within the man.. the plane-flight continued to crush his soul, he barely even had strength to ask for some water,

[hmmm, the fruit tastes better than KLM’s yet the two companies Air France and KLM have amalgamated, different fruit sources? ]

the chair in front of me leans all the way back, i react with a violent tap as if this is somehow an injustice and no-one should do this to me.. however the real reason i am scared is because of the leggy, awkward and downright rude french man sitting in the seat.. his tone to the stewardessess repulses me in only the way that french pomposity can.. but the worst thing about him is the dandruff which i estimate is about 35 cm from my eyes and face.. it looks like someone has sprinkled african conflict diamonds in his balding crown, the glisten and shimmer of fresh flakes slowly breaking off from the hardened puss trenches dug into his scalp.. even worse is the young nephew figure sitting beside him who just looks annoying.. a big fat scottish guy sits next to the flakster picking his nose and laughing at some low-level hollywood comedy (it was pretty good), as he picked his nose, he would subtly hold up the offerings to the light to inspect what had been retrieved..

 [japanese girl accidentally touches my leg for the 3rd time and now our knees are touching.. shit.. gotta move my leg away in a motion which doesn’t mean i hate you, just… getting back to the way things were..]

huh, so after some chat with a crazy 17 year missionary kid who just loves jesus and sake and ireland and has a kanji symbol for peace badly shaved into his hair.. the flight finally ends.. alexander is coming to the end of the performance with an award winning rendition of  ‘i have a desire to reenter the womb at all costs’.. he still wants lucozade.. sharks galore airport will probably not have it though.. we get off the plane into a large stream of disenchanted people who don’t care about each other at all.. i lose alex in the foray and thats it.. i look for him at all the departure terminals especailly the ones which say dublin but no sign, i wait at the edinburgh terminal for a sign of life, but no show, i look in all the toilets but all i find is a chinese man smoking so i decide to stay there and have a cigarette with him..

 we talk about tokyo, china, cigarettes and laugh about what will happen if we get caught, then we make the urinals flush in a kind of alternate breathing pattern to wash away the ash.. i say goodbye and get on a plane to edinburgh,

 i wander around edinburgh as a ghost, actually i did feel like a ghost but that was mostly jetlag and good gear, i stayed in a flat for the whole 2.5 days.. the proudest thing is that i still haven’t washed since tokyo which feels silky and great, mother said she could smell me as i got into the car..

now.. to the shower and bed..


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