an hour to kill

an hour and i'm on the road.... i've played a ridiculous amount of solitaire already...... drank so much coffee that it's almost hard to type for the shake in my hands.... wicked, though, to be a few days from home, the back of that car is going to be ssssssttttiiiiinnnnnkkkkkkyyyy with b.o., hahahaha! three crammed into the backseat and me with no boots on, hell, at least then i know we'll have the windows open and fresh air flowing. and music. good tunes, i think a couple of the five (myself included) have tiny-electronic-music-storing-and-playing-devices.... and some iron maiden on tape. shit yeah, i'll be thinking of being in sweaty arenas with friends and early summer rain mixed with smog and loud, loud, loud, watching the prairies roll by forever. daydreaming is a wicked past time. i've been practising quite a bit, lately.... very easy to do in the soo, there's not much else but it sure is quiet enough to listen to your thoughs.... accompanied by bug chatter and green and blue and the sun in your eyes so it all melds together, feeling so lazy from the heat you barely have your eyes open and it doesn't matter, time doesn't exist.
northern ontario is a northern beauty.... the kind from old films where the girl on the farm is more shy than she is gorgeous, and that in itself is like a crisp apple, the smaller red kind, her skin fair and hair dark, eyes so pure from the fear of god and her parents, sweet and unassuming. spending the afternoon riding bikes down small lanes and watching the neighbours go about thier day. a steel plant up the road. a lake a little farther after that. and then one more. and another and another and another and another connected to another and lots of them stream-fed with water as clear as the air.
but
there's no place like home.