there was a kid who was very sick. he needed something. no one could figure it out.
he couldnt breathe right. just coughed all the time.
hospitals and tests.
his family was so worried.
the poor boy started coughing up blood.
the doctors had no idea what was wrong with him.
they could only keep him comfortable before he….
i could feel the air all over my face, stroking my shoulders and moving my hair. i couldn’t see anything but i kept on moving, i needed to go to where they had told me they hid you.
it was a dark night, that’s all i knew. it was so hot i could feel it under my shoe’s sole. i had no hope, but i needed to do something.
Airstream goes around the back of a plane and helps it go forward and I am inside, going forward. How fast is a fly inside a plane going if the plane is going 300 miles per hour, and the fly has not yet landed? This is not a very large plane, but they have a movie that we can watch whether we choose to or not. It’s Look Who’s Talking.
the air stream keeps us all alive. without it we are nothing. we cant survive without it because it supplies air to all the world. if the air stream stopped, our oxygen supply would cease to exist, and so would all of life. the air stream comes from the heavens, and is produced by the mercy of the gods, it is our key to survival.
The airstream flowed over me like a river. Cool and sweet, with a hint of bitterness just under the surface, like a sharp stone waiting to pierce your foot. Can anything be more beautiful than pain covered in a film of beauty and glory, the essence of life itself?
Her lungs were heavy. Constricted. There was pressure wrapping around it, curling its poisonous tentacles into her skin.
She can’t breathe. She’s watching her child go down. Bullets, rat-a-tat-tat, shiny and sharp and metal pattering into her boy. Into skin. Into blood. Through the lungs.
She can’t breathe.
She can’t breathe she can’t breathe SHE CAN’T BREATHE
The doctor is leaning over him. She blinks. He disappears.
She runs to him. She clutches his hand. “Mi,” she clears her throat. “Michael?” It’s a miracle her voice comes through.
He wheezes. It’s a sad, small, pathetic noise, and then he clenches his jaw weakly and looks at her and the light goes out of her eyes.
She can’t breathe.
That breathlessness stays with her, pumps her heart and keeps her moving, like a long limbed puppet doll.
She still can’t breathe.
The racket of air horns and vuvuzelas filled the airstreams as the graduates filed across the stage, waving and cheering. No graduation is complete without them.
and we’re off!
no matter which way we may push and we pull
we float on at the whim of the hands of people
a draft magnified from the wing of a seagull
echoing ripples from bells found upon the steeple
Airstream. Finally, free. It’s a cool caress against my cheeks. It shapes and twines around my form. Flying. Like an eagle. Into the fuuuuuuuuture. Who sings that song?
air stream torrents, whizzing whippoorwills overhead, a fire slash of feather trail, rows of hilly contrails, shadows of birds into shadows of barns, coolness there like the inside of a mailbox on a hot day.
air is essential to life, streams carry water to the ocean. They flow and travel, just like we do in the journey of life. We need both a destination, a goal and the flexibility to go with the flow. We get there, always, no matter what the path we take. Breathe.
I can assure you that you will not find your golden ball not up here in the airstream were I reside. It’s deep in the muck of the jungle, in the darkness of the cave you fear. So do not pray, do not pay, there’s nothing I can give. There is no map for the divine cartography of human lives.
But worry not, for you’ve not lost your way. Never has it been for one to reach the destination at a single place, nor does one arrive at any one of them at a single time. you’ve hardly been on this journey and too often you stop too early, mistaking understanding with understanding that there is something to be understood. the latter is the very beginning, the opening road; you’re still in the shire, dear.
The Trinity of Time, Effort and Focused Energy is the eternal order: When you receive a new understanding understand it’s like you are being given a pair of oars — still you will have to find the canoe (you might have to build one); still will you have to locate the deep river; still you will have to learn how to navigate the invisible; still you will have to learn how to row the oars so that they stir much more than the water…
There’s salt all over this soft shell of mine. Air gently flowing from the fans above. I scrub, I scrub. The tenderness of rubbing away the old and dead, and bringing forward fresh, pink skin. I feel like a raw little crab, thrown momentarily into the boiling pot. For that minute it is not torture, but a warm spa. Tender and soothing to my bones.
flowing in the wind, free flying, leaving on a jet plane dont know when ill be back again, aerodynamic, smooth sailing, ride the winds of life, peace and mellow.
this is the air the the stream of cold or hot air yes im a great write. the stream of breath that flows from a persons mouth on a cold day or a stream of water flowing through a river iim tired what happens next almost done yay airstream
We arrived a few minutes earlier than expected. The breeze was stronger than usual as we opened the door to the café. Suddenly upon opening the door an airstream of hard coffee escaped slapping both of our faces. We were back at last, to the cafe that saw our beginning.
if money didn’t rule everything we could have cars that run on water without worrying how perfectly they slice through the airstream. we could have hot rods and jelopy’s again.
The temperature outside is perfect, light warm humidity without mosquitoes, but the airstream inside is popping goosebumps on my pale smooth arms, desiccating remnants of baby skin. My Italian family says that air conditioning creates backaches. I remember a cold winter in Bologna, a pea coat over a black jacket, over a sweater, a shirt, then thermal, scarf, boots, mittens clutching deep in my pockets, walking home at night with my shoulders high and being miserably sore the next day.
the jet of bubbles came so quickly it knocked me off my feet. i couldn’t help but realize he was still standing even though the immense amount of air was pushing on both of us equally and perhaps that shows you something about our stability. i was always a little more psychotic than him i suppose and perhaps that is why i cannot balance.
The smoky airstream flowed around the room, smoothly at first, but then broke into a spinning dance near the painting of the New York Skyline. Kelly looked at his security adviser, who nodded, and said, “We have a leak!” Mills, the head of engineering on the space center, gasped; “WHICH KIND?!”
If was a beautiful way to travel, in a teeny little car towing a silver bubble behind that magically opened into a home. chilling roadside, cliff side, Oceanside, it was wonderful.
then the lightning came.
They say birds use the airstream to glide over vast distances with ease. I wish I could do that some days, because the distance between you and me is heart-breakingly far and I don’t have wings that allow me to glide across the airstream to meet you. And the distance between our bodies isn’t whats so far, its really the distance between our hearts.
I love that you are human, with your beautiful veins and twitches and sighs. That we share the same airstream, that the ins and outs of your flaws fit like jigsaw pieces against mine. I love the way this is effortless, and even my exasperations vanish in the wake of your wholeness.
it keeps saying there’ll be different words at the top…. I keep getting airstream. am I doing something wrong? I dunno, but this is interesting. I don’t just write very often.
airstream shit on my face with three buckets of chinese food. Don’t tell me you didn’t like what it contained, it felt useful at the time and you chimed about it for weeks, you fucking psychopath
clouds and jets and pretty rainbows and streams of air and prettiness. i love airplanes. hooray. complicated word! not much time i sad. nooooooooooooooooooooooo
there was a kid who was very sick. he needed something. no one could figure it out.
he couldnt breathe right. just coughed all the time.
hospitals and tests.
his family was so worried.
the poor boy started coughing up blood.
the doctors had no idea what was wrong with him.
they could only keep him comfortable before he….
In the dream, I’m in one of those old Airstream camper trailers, towed by a flying car … Riding the airstreams in an Airstream.
jetstream
wheeling
holding on to youthful feelings
breathing in the dull incense
watching wings flutter amidst the sky
you and I
you and I
i could feel the air all over my face, stroking my shoulders and moving my hair. i couldn’t see anything but i kept on moving, i needed to go to where they had told me they hid you.
it was a dark night, that’s all i knew. it was so hot i could feel it under my shoe’s sole. i had no hope, but i needed to do something.
Airstream goes around the back of a plane and helps it go forward and I am inside, going forward. How fast is a fly inside a plane going if the plane is going 300 miles per hour, and the fly has not yet landed? This is not a very large plane, but they have a movie that we can watch whether we choose to or not. It’s Look Who’s Talking.
The earth cracked beneath our feet, emitting a thin, powerful airstream hot enough to scald our skin.
A stream of air. Wind blowing through my hair. On my face. Eyes closed.
PEACE.
The airstream comes out of the vent above the door to try and heat my cold room as I slip into bed and hope to stay there forever.
the air stream keeps us all alive. without it we are nothing. we cant survive without it because it supplies air to all the world. if the air stream stopped, our oxygen supply would cease to exist, and so would all of life. the air stream comes from the heavens, and is produced by the mercy of the gods, it is our key to survival.
The airstream flowed over me like a river. Cool and sweet, with a hint of bitterness just under the surface, like a sharp stone waiting to pierce your foot. Can anything be more beautiful than pain covered in a film of beauty and glory, the essence of life itself?
Her lungs were heavy. Constricted. There was pressure wrapping around it, curling its poisonous tentacles into her skin.
She can’t breathe. She’s watching her child go down. Bullets, rat-a-tat-tat, shiny and sharp and metal pattering into her boy. Into skin. Into blood. Through the lungs.
She can’t breathe.
She can’t breathe she can’t breathe SHE CAN’T BREATHE
The doctor is leaning over him. She blinks. He disappears.
She runs to him. She clutches his hand. “Mi,” she clears her throat. “Michael?” It’s a miracle her voice comes through.
He wheezes. It’s a sad, small, pathetic noise, and then he clenches his jaw weakly and looks at her and the light goes out of her eyes.
She can’t breathe.
That breathlessness stays with her, pumps her heart and keeps her moving, like a long limbed puppet doll.
She still can’t breathe.
The racket of air horns and vuvuzelas filled the airstreams as the graduates filed across the stage, waving and cheering. No graduation is complete without them.
and we’re off!
no matter which way we may push and we pull
we float on at the whim of the hands of people
a draft magnified from the wing of a seagull
echoing ripples from bells found upon the steeple
Airstream. Finally, free. It’s a cool caress against my cheeks. It shapes and twines around my form. Flying. Like an eagle. Into the fuuuuuuuuture. Who sings that song?
air stream torrents, whizzing whippoorwills overhead, a fire slash of feather trail, rows of hilly contrails, shadows of birds into shadows of barns, coolness there like the inside of a mailbox on a hot day.
air is essential to life, streams carry water to the ocean. They flow and travel, just like we do in the journey of life. We need both a destination, a goal and the flexibility to go with the flow. We get there, always, no matter what the path we take. Breathe.
A cool airstream blew through my hair and against the balloon.
I can assure you that you will not find your golden ball not up here in the airstream were I reside. It’s deep in the muck of the jungle, in the darkness of the cave you fear. So do not pray, do not pay, there’s nothing I can give. There is no map for the divine cartography of human lives.
But worry not, for you’ve not lost your way. Never has it been for one to reach the destination at a single place, nor does one arrive at any one of them at a single time. you’ve hardly been on this journey and too often you stop too early, mistaking understanding with understanding that there is something to be understood. the latter is the very beginning, the opening road; you’re still in the shire, dear.
The Trinity of Time, Effort and Focused Energy is the eternal order: When you receive a new understanding understand it’s like you are being given a pair of oars — still you will have to find the canoe (you might have to build one); still will you have to locate the deep river; still you will have to learn how to navigate the invisible; still you will have to learn how to row the oars so that they stir much more than the water…
There’s salt all over this soft shell of mine. Air gently flowing from the fans above. I scrub, I scrub. The tenderness of rubbing away the old and dead, and bringing forward fresh, pink skin. I feel like a raw little crab, thrown momentarily into the boiling pot. For that minute it is not torture, but a warm spa. Tender and soothing to my bones.
Cold,
Hard,
Fast,
Air,
Car window open, nose to the wind
flowing in the wind, free flying, leaving on a jet plane dont know when ill be back again, aerodynamic, smooth sailing, ride the winds of life, peace and mellow.
this is the air the the stream of cold or hot air yes im a great write. the stream of breath that flows from a persons mouth on a cold day or a stream of water flowing through a river iim tired what happens next almost done yay airstream
We arrived a few minutes earlier than expected. The breeze was stronger than usual as we opened the door to the café. Suddenly upon opening the door an airstream of hard coffee escaped slapping both of our faces. We were back at last, to the cafe that saw our beginning.
Wind
The plane you swiftly swoon to
Breeze in your face
Petals rustle pink and
Yellow
A stream of air. Flowing, powerful, crisp. Beautiful airstream. What the hell is an airstream anyways?
The fluid motion of the airstream smoothe over the stiff feathers of the Skylord. Behind him trailed a grey mist.
Airstreams slightly warming sending sweet breezes aloft, How can I complain with such warmth & feelings enveloping me through my sorrow?
The air was cool,
The night was dark,
But all I could think about,
Was the moments past.
Those fleeting moments
That made me feel so alive,
I long for your presence,
To at least know you’re alive.
The air was cool,
And the night was dark,
But loneliness remained,
Without you in my heart
if money didn’t rule everything we could have cars that run on water without worrying how perfectly they slice through the airstream. we could have hot rods and jelopy’s again.
The temperature outside is perfect, light warm humidity without mosquitoes, but the airstream inside is popping goosebumps on my pale smooth arms, desiccating remnants of baby skin. My Italian family says that air conditioning creates backaches. I remember a cold winter in Bologna, a pea coat over a black jacket, over a sweater, a shirt, then thermal, scarf, boots, mittens clutching deep in my pockets, walking home at night with my shoulders high and being miserably sore the next day.
the jet of bubbles came so quickly it knocked me off my feet. i couldn’t help but realize he was still standing even though the immense amount of air was pushing on both of us equally and perhaps that shows you something about our stability. i was always a little more psychotic than him i suppose and perhaps that is why i cannot balance.
The smoky airstream flowed around the room, smoothly at first, but then broke into a spinning dance near the painting of the New York Skyline. Kelly looked at his security adviser, who nodded, and said, “We have a leak!” Mills, the head of engineering on the space center, gasped; “WHICH KIND?!”
If was a beautiful way to travel, in a teeny little car towing a silver bubble behind that magically opened into a home. chilling roadside, cliff side, Oceanside, it was wonderful.
then the lightning came.
They say birds use the airstream to glide over vast distances with ease. I wish I could do that some days, because the distance between you and me is heart-breakingly far and I don’t have wings that allow me to glide across the airstream to meet you. And the distance between our bodies isn’t whats so far, its really the distance between our hearts.
I love that you are human, with your beautiful veins and twitches and sighs. That we share the same airstream, that the ins and outs of your flaws fit like jigsaw pieces against mine. I love the way this is effortless, and even my exasperations vanish in the wake of your wholeness.
it keeps saying there’ll be different words at the top…. I keep getting airstream. am I doing something wrong? I dunno, but this is interesting. I don’t just write very often.
an airstream is not a very common phrase. It’s what an eagle uses to fly. They spread their wings, and it carries them. IKt’s really quite magical.
airstream shit on my face with three buckets of chinese food. Don’t tell me you didn’t like what it contained, it felt useful at the time and you chimed about it for weeks, you fucking psychopath
im in love with you ohhho hhhohohohhhh.
-sistar. loving u
clouds and jets and pretty rainbows and streams of air and prettiness. i love airplanes. hooray. complicated word! not much time i sad. nooooooooooooooooooooooo