Home.

When I walk in to an airplane I pass full rows and some empty ones, I hope I get an empty row so I kind sleep laying down.
I walk by one plad dressed guy that survived the 90's trance/rave era, but probably with some kind of druc addiction and a bad haircut as permanent damage. Thank God I'm not sitting next to him I think and sit down on my seat a few rows behind.

I am sick in that way that I stress myself. I should not have a window seat bc I look out an obsess about things that can go wrong, if the plane crashes, who will survive, will there be body parts flyging around, where is the plane going to brake half if it brakes, are we safer if it crashes into the ocean vs. land?
And older man sits down next to me and nods his head.
The person behind me has the worst breath ever. I hope she falls asleep with her mouht closed and head turned aside.

Old guy starts talking. -Are you a student? -No sir, I work.
Looking at me closely as to see if I really are old enough to be a working woman. -What do you do?
I tell him my current occupation and he points at his ear and says -My hearing..
I yell it again.. He gets it wrong, I yell louder, the travellers around us look at me.
Finally he gets it right, and continues talking. I have to continue yelling.
He speaks german to me, thinking that is what Swedes talk. The man talks non-stop.
Questions about religion, love, death, life, existence, paradise.. I am looking at this old grandpa and I want to slip a Valium in his drink, or one for myself, not sure.

I look at his eyebrows as he talks. Some old peoples eyebrows continue growing crazy large like this old man's, they are curling up to his forehead. I wonder if da Rosa's eyebrows and ear hair will get like that.
If they do I will slip him a Valium as well and cut them while he sleeps.

I see my chance when he leaves for the bathroom.
I go into "pretend sleep". And I almost fall asleep for real til granpa comes back and shakes my shoulder -I have a few more questions.. I am thinking if I'd rather sit next to the smelly lady behind me or this persisntent old talkative man.
I lean my seat back and the smelly lady kicks my chair and tries to push it back.
This kind of behaviour make sme want to lean it back up and down and back again.

I now think that I would not sit next to any of these, and look over to rave/trance guy from the ninties in a dreamingly way. He would have not smelles or talked. In fact we would have talked a little about music and "Full monn parties" in Thailand before they got exploated and when I thought those were the coolest things ever. He probably still thinks they are the coolest things ever.
-So you are not a student then? Says old man next to me and this became a very long flight home from Budapest.