Flight Mode


Sometimes I imagine what it would look like to see the passengers of a plane flying without the plane around them. Just a couple hundred people sitting in rows, gliding through the air – up and up. How strange. How strange flying is. How fast we get from one place to another, thousands of kilometers in between. Big metal tubes transporting our bodies – but what about the rest of us? What about our minds? Our hearts? Do they always come along with us so quickly? I don’t think so. I think sometimes my head and heart lag behind. Or freeze in the in between, abandoned wholly to flight mode, refusing to process where I was or where I am going, lost in a book or lost in thought… where are all the people going? Where did they come from? Is anyone else leaving home for home? Does anyone else feel bitter and sweet in equal proportion? Would anyone else weep if it weren’t for the sheer monotony, familiarity, and anonymity of airports… security checks… passport control? Is anyone else so damn tired of being so far away from the people they love or could’ve loved if Time-Space would’ve been so kind as to allow it? Does anyone else watch the earth drop away from beneath them with a wistful aching feeling? Is anyone else a little heart sore?

Surely, I am not alone?

Surely, I am never alone.


6/1/2019

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