We board first-class for Santorini—Star Alliance and it’s a 757 if you still believe me. Some time ago, the moment was only words. A dream. Are you gunna believe me?
Sliding my index and middle fingers across the walls of the jetway, awaiting our first steps into the jet to play, I reminisce the roots of such a moment. Once a walk through the mind. Now an experience and we stole it.
#AmWriting to you, Santorini. A dream and I’ll write it through, freely.
You’re Greece and ancient. Got a beach and I wanna run it. Yposkafa to fuck in it. Narrow streets to tour about shit. Beast through the nights and later type about it.
#AmWriting this from Portland, Oregon—keeping it weird and bliss. Exploring the imaginative overseas trip. Envisioning as if I’ve never been on such a trip.
Although COVID rules had me locked up and stuck, six months prior I started my hermit life, no time for the worldly spite.
Because I dreamed of the tropics to snorkel. No glasses like Urkel. But contacts upon an island’s portal.
….Calgon, Calgon, take me away—to a place I’m a first-class ticket away.