Paper Sands

This piece has a bit of a story behind it.

I wrote it in a few minutes while traveling down the 183 highway (one-eighty-three) listening to a music piece titled "How You Feel". I liked it, so I wrote down how it made me feel. Words came pretty easily that day, but they don't always. Having help from another individual's artwork can be very inspiring and freshening, sometimes. Sometimes it just makes you want to throw all your own work away because their work is so good. 

Traveling down the 183 reminded me of when I used to drive the 101 in Los Angeles, and suddenly, it was as if the environment around me slowed, and for a moment, I was back there. I couldn't really tell you why, because the 183 is nothing like the 101. I don't know if it was a certain smell or just the combination of all the sensory input from the hum of the VW beetle, the oncoming rush hour traffic, the smell of pollution and the unforgiving sun that day, I don't know. But my brain reached back somewhere that brought that particular sensory memory for just a blink.

It was nice. 

Not too long after writing this, my best friend from my time in living in the Los Angeles area took off suddenly, without telling anyone. She boarded a plane and left for the sands. 

She always was folding paper airplanes and going back to the sands. 

I think it fits. Unintentionally, but I think it's a nice tribute to her - even though she was a turd and didn't tell me goodbye. The original last stanza actually spoke completely in plural third person, but I changed the last line to have "she" instead of "they" when I came back and read this after she had left.

Anyway. Here's Paper Sands.

Have you ever had someone that mattered leave without a goodbye?