Did I ever tell you how much I hate airplanes? Most people are afraid of them because they think of all the worst scenarios that can happen, like falling in the deep ocean and die. My apologies, that was such a gruesome way to start this introduction. But honestly, what are the chances for a plane crash to happen though? No, in my case, being in the air feels like a trap. A trap that… oh wow look at the view!
Okay, I see you’re getting a bit confused. Let me start from the beginning, shall I? Yes, I’m in a plane right now and I’m trying my best to write this story given the circumstances. Oh, you should see me. Six feet tall, with my legs touching the front seat and my laptop barely fitting in front of me. I’m hangry although I ate before boarding, but the cabin food is super expensive as always. I want to go to the loo, but of course I’ve got the window seat and the couple next to me has been sleeping since the second we took a seat. No, I can’t wake them up. I can feel their frustration just by thinking of touching their arm.
I’m so desperate to land as soon as possible. I won’t reveal where, they say it’s the journey the matters. If they only knew... Did I mentioned the baby that never stops crying? Poor creatures! The change of altitude makes their ears hurt and there is nothing they can do about it. Now that I think of it, maybe they are in a worse position than me. The baby’s father just passed trying to put the baby to sleep. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t want to be in that father’s position, but right now I envy the freedom of his body and leg stretching in the hallway. No, no more distractions. I should keep writing, I say while finally embracing the window next to me.
During a flight, there is one certain thing, you can’t ignore the beauty that you see out of the window. Alright, some people can, but I can’t miss to notice the deep sea and sky becoming one. An endless blue that expands on all sides, leaving no space for evidence of earth or human life. After a while, the clouds illustrate white waves of cotton, highlighted by the bright sun. That’s when I slowly start making sense of time. The sun is like a painter, adding different colours to the landscape, indicating its passage and the coming of the moon. A sudden yellow appears, then a pink, then a purple, and before you know it, the painter disappears. Darkness is the only artwork now. Suddenly, I feel calm.
Time is an interesting concept, isn’t it? There are moments where it sticks with you like a gum on your shoe, not wanting to leave no matter how hard you try. And moments where like a thunder it’s come and gone before you even glimpse. Anyway, you might be wondering why am I saying all these to you or why are you listening to me? To get off some steam? To get myself out of boredom? All those are possible scenarios, but I think the answer lies somewhere beyond the multicoloured clouds and the infinite blues.
Yeah, I get it, you might say. You’re one of those helplessly romantic people that like to observe nature, sing to the birds and embrace the present moment. Well, the romantic part might be true, but the present and I are two complete strangers. There are times when I get fully aware of the moment and my surroundings, but instead of focusing on that moment, I focus on myself thinking of that moment. And before I know it, just like the sun, the moment fades away into a subconscious overthinking state that has nothing to do with the present. I often try to improve this part of me, although it’s not always easy. To be honest, it’s never easy. Take this paragraph as an example.
Now I get it, you might say again. Do you? I ask you. Yeah, this is a practice for you to take a note of your experiences, you might answer. Well, if we ignore the part where I explain to you the scene I’m in, all the rest is a river of subconscious thoughts and questions running down the keyboard. I would say that this sounds like the opposite of what you’re suggesting. What is it then? You might ask confused. Who said I know the answer though? I’m just a hungry dreamer in a plane, typing my thoughts as I’m flying into the dark yet beautiful artwork of life. None of it will matter when I land. Perhaps that’s the real trap. Am I even here?
