In Flight

 

Stale, compacted, unregulated air. Cold to the touch, thick oval windows, quietly lit with a Dim blue light, and rows of passengers with faces unknown.

For some reason this where I feel at home.

Maybe if for the anticipation of arrival upon land uncharted, upon experiences unknown.

Non partial—whether it be the airport, the plane, international or domestic —‘tis the experience

The knowing, when I am on a plane I feel sense of belonging, a sense of homecoming and peace. A wholehearted knowing that I am in the right place at the right time. A feeling that I seldom experience.

I can not quantify nor rationalize this notion. Regardless of its origin, I will chase this feeling restlessly at the cost of several other factors for the rest of my life.

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