Even the worst parts of traveling are romantic. I just got off the phone with someone very dear to me. She'd spent the night sleepless in JFK, waiting to jump the next available plane to De Gaulle. Feelings of longing, adventure, fear and sleep depravation swirl.
I thought about those strange highs--camping out in the fluorescent buzz of some empty terminal. Sleeping on the floor--or at least trying to--because some asshole decided to divide the benches with arm rests. Even those parts are good. Either you're headed into something drastically different and new, or almost home again.
Nothing compounds this surreal rush through the airport like a strong buzz and a blaring soundtrack--both of these things are also helpful in building the confidence to sneak past the desk guards into the airline's frequent flyer clubs for free food a more comfortable place to post up. Thinking of all this, and her, a song came to mind.
I put it on her iPod, or at least I hope I did. I have it on mine. I told her to fire it up just as she was to board. The feeling would be right, or at least, she'd know somewhat how I feel.
Listen: Wolfman ft. Pete Doherty "For Lovers"
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