Mar 7, 2008

No Angels

The headphones felt warm and comforting over my ears.

I reached into my pocked and turned the volume up in my mp3 player. Dido began to sing a little louder than one second ago.

'no white flag, above my door'

oh no baby, I thought, no white flag.

'...go down with the ship...'
indeed you will, and so will I.

I walked through the aisle, looking at the passengers on both sides. Scared, pale faces stared back at me. I felt my mouth move but I could not hear my own words, I knew I was talking a bit loud, like headphone-d people do.

Same can be said true for people with 2 Kg TNT trapped on their bodies. One my two brothers was done with the praying and he tapped me on the shoulder that it was my turn.

I walked into the pilot's cabin and sat in the co-pilot's chair. I smiled at the pilot, his blood streaked face radiated hate at me like a dying sun. I sat there looking at the clouds and the cities standing tall far away.

Not for long.

I did not pray, just skipped to my next favorite song. The clock at my belt slowly ticked to blasting point.

Just enough time to squeeze in 'No Angel'.
A little bit of stereotypes, some Dido and well, inside jokes if you can read that deep in this story.
As for me, well, life is fucking me, not at the speed I'd like it to but I guess as long as I can keep writing stories it will all be ok.
Hope life is not fucking you!


  1. long as you can write stories it will be ok.
    if it's not,then call me! ;)

  2. life is fucking everyone dude
    and as for the stories, I don't know.. I never write about violence yet yours, which are always about it just draw me in
    hmmm... contradiction is the name of the game

  3. Life isnt fuckin me as of now! it just sucks!


  4. it all always..and is muvng toward more fuckng days!!
    amazing u still get time to write
    rock on

  5. This is interesting again.
    I like the way you've contrasted the song being played to the situation. Cool.