Flight 616

So ends another journey into the unknown. I've learned a lot this time—a lot about myself, the nature of others, and how to live life happily. The secret, I've found, is to be stoned as much as possible. My high has worn away, appropriately, as I watch the sun set over some unknown plain in the Midwest. I can't help but wonder what awaits me back home.

I've begun to use the term “home” loosely, as a multitude of towns have become worthy of that moniker during the past few years: Cochran, Dublin, Savannah, Warner Robins, and now Hollywood and Silver Lake. It's nice to know that I have close friends scattered about the country, but it also makes me sad to realize that I'll no longer be in their lives when I leave. I wonder how long it will take before they forget.

There is a girl across the aisle from me on Flight 616 from Phoenix to Atlanta. She's coloring a page from a coloring book, although she must be at least eighteen. It's a drawing of a crab on a beach, and the lines are bold and meticulously traced, while the inside is carefully shaded in an exact shade of pale pink. The flight, I've been told, will be a short one--three hours and twelve minutes. I guilt-tripped the stewardess into giving me a packet of Fiesta Snack Mix, which is now reserved only for the first class patrons. I don't have the seven bucks for a prepackaged Chicken Caesar salad. If I did, I'm sure it would be the best food I'd ever placed in my mouth.

Paul tried to get me to fuck him today in return for him taking me to the airport. I ended up letting him blow me. I couldn't get off, so I pretended to cum as he faced away from me and ground his ass into my side. He told me to wipe it onto the shirt he was wearing because it was dirty anyway and needed to be washed. In reality, he probably was thinking ahead, creating some physical relic of this sexual escapade to aid him in future masturbation sessions. Boy will he be disappointed when he finds the stains on his shirt were caused by nothing more than his own saliva. Or maybe, knowing him, he would be even more turned on. I need to get stoned.