It was like I was in a dream of massive proportions and couldn't stop the milk from spilling from the jug. I sat up screaming in my bunk. Rats had come in form the rain outside and were eating the blankets that I slurp. The emotions are running high and dogs are running around. The garbage is full and the ants are happy. We keep the fish out of the drain and in the morning the ship will land in a place that we are no sure of. The kettle is beginning to boil and the rye bread has been toasted. The breakfast that we cook is bland and the coffee cold. Everyday we wake to the tedious ins and outs of life on a sky ship made for sailing. Trapped in a world of everyday event's we try to make the most of what we have and talk to the midnight hour. Every word from our lips is a story that takes us to the outer reaches of space and brings warmth into our hearts as the night goes on and the moronic sun rises over the horizon our mind drift from reality and slip into a state of perpetual euphoria. Our slumber last through the afternoon and we sail past our destination. When the capn rises from his death like sleep and zombies creep form the room he states that the ship will drop it's load and land in safeness that is the trees. The naive natives think of the Capn as a savior of massive proportions and simply give the ships crew a banquet. The ship is now ready for it's new adventure and takes to the sky like a pigeon in the sling of a wrist rocket.

The TASTE is the best coffee dreams and creep around the window. Your mother can see the curtians move.