pb

my new home-----scratch that....the new place where i sleep at night and where i keep my shit is rather close to LAX, one of the busiest airports in the country. having lived for two years under the approach lanes of Reagan National, the noise isn't something which keeps me up at night. __what does serve that purpose, keeping me up at night i mean, is that those planes are all going somewhere. somewhere not here. i had much the same thoughts about twelve years gone, lying abed in USMC boot camp in San Diego; the training facility there shared a fence with that city's main airport and all we ever did, mostly too young to shave anything but our heads, was watch the planes take off for somewhere that wasn't where we were. __i wish i was on that big ol' jet airliner. taking me far away to my home, to my family and friends and people who'd smile to see me and be sincere in their entreaties for me to stay once it came time for me to go. __i miss belonging. i miss the space i filled there for my friends and loved ones. i miss the sincere smiles, trusting handshakes and long, thick-aired nights of cricket-song. i miss nights spent reading by lamplight on my mom's porch, or fishing on the beach with my dad under the stars. i miss my brother and all his wonderful musings on how we're going to make it in the world, so much so that we could buy some land and build a house for our parents so they'd never know the inside of a nursing home. __i want to be there with them tomorrow. i want to be chastised for pinching some turkey before it could be served. i want to debate with my uncles the questionable merits of the ford vs the chevy. i want to be the man i was brought up to be, away from this place of false smiles and greedy wiles. __i'll wake tomorrow alone, with nowhere to go that doesn't cause pain and feel strange. i'll shuffle about and tell myself what i do here is for my career and the family i hope to raise in the years to come, lying to myself how this is necessary to succeed, this lonesome life amid a legion of plastic strangers. __plans made, promises broken, dreams dead and unsure, silent paths ahead. i'm good at the solitary thing, utilitarian and pragmatic, gruff and good at lying to myself. too good.