Bing Bong
I hate these places. They’re so incredibly massive but still there is hardly any room to move about in at all. The place is jam-packed full of people of various descriptions, families, young adults; the lads, grinning and slapping each other on the back; and the girls; giggling and reapplying lip-gloss. There is a gaggle of turban wearing foreigners rushing over to the desk and jabbering to each other and probably most noticeably, the grey suited businessmen who pace around, clasping a briefcase in one hand and holding a ridiculously tiny mobile phone in the other. Honestly, the act like they’ve been entrusted on a top secret mission. They think they’re James fucking Bond.
There’s a small child sat next to me, absolutely covered in sticky, fruit flavoured goo which his mother was kind enough to give him. His hand is creeping nearer and nearer to my new cream skirt, the tension increases with every inch.
Bing Bong! Welcome to the Airport!
In my experience I have found that people seem to be fascinated by airports and when asked, nobody has given me and proper answer.
I think what children find most awesome isn’t the airport itself but the fact that they’re about to be whipped away to some exotic, foreign destination, unexplored by their young eyes and podgy little hands, Others, mainly men, seem to be spellbound by the mechanics, that despite the enormity of these machines, they can defy gravity and soar thousands of feet up in the air at a terrifying number of miles per hour. Maybe its both, amalgamated with the futuristic style of the airport that gives people the feeling that instead of sitting in a hi-tech sardine can, they are in a space rocket, waiting to boldly go where no man has gone before.
How cruel the world must seem when they arrive in Hamburg for a business conference.

...when I can be bothered.

my diary is sad and empty because I just deleted all the entries
bwa ha
bwa ha
bwa ha
guffaw

mmm....yeh i think i'll fill it up with my babbly 'story' writng instead.
They aren't actually stories, more like a page of writing.
ah well.