I’m in the process of building an airplane till it’s stable enough to sit in.
Never never never to fly again.
Walking past these store windows and I see… I see which type of wings I want to buy. I wonder how they’d taste the air.
I don’t get to taste the air. I’ve had the runway. I lived there for six years. Should have disabled it. Jammed gum in the ignition so no key could fit.
I didn’t. Key went in easy. The wheels started turning. Nose pointed straight up and y’all still f***ing dragged me back to this this this SICK EARTH. I wanted to bring you with me.