Thursday, January 7, 2010


Here's to all the people who flew home after their Christmas break.

We were all visited by our Santa God, and we all got our special gifts. At least, to the ignorant who assume that Christmas isn't a lonely time of year for some people, Santa God arrived through everyone's chimneys and delivered new love for old parents.

This is good, and this is fine.

There are a lot of things people think while they're boarding an airplane. Forgive me for being fight club-esque as, that is not nearly my intention. Things just strike you in that moment, while you look out the window and watch the world slowly shrink below you. The waters and trees and seas of water recede slowly out of sight, and you suddenly feel a lot bigger than you were moments before. You feel like you're bigger and it feels nice to be able to sit back and watch the world spin slowly below you, though you're actually moving much faster than you would be driving even a race car.

This is when you pass through the clouds. As a novice, you get that small panic as you pass through the clouds and all goes dark and sad. You brace for turbulence that never comes. This is when you break through, this is when you become transcendence. You're above the clouds that look all fluffy and jump-on-able. This is when you imagine you are now flying across the tundra in a giant piece of metal. This is when you think of that commercial on the discovery channel for licence to drill. This is when you turn up your Envy on the Coast so you can't quite hear the engine quite so much.

You could be blissful, because you like to travel (and traveling is laid back free time). Or you could enjoy the travel because you are moving, and you believe in movement change and second chances. It could feel good because you're going to your other other home. It's called home because of the way it looks, the way that you feel when you walk in and everything isn't strange and new. The feeling that you're sort of welcome, and that people sort of want you there. This is what home is and it feels sort of nice to know you're going back.

If you've stopped to wonder at this point whether it should feel nice and comfy where you're going, you were quickly distracted by something else, and it didn't matter much. Thing is, you can't let yourself think about what you feel like deep deep down. Sure you think lots. You think all the time and you think more than you should. But it's not deep deep down, because deep deep down is where you get hurt by what people say and do behind your back, and in front of your back, assumed that your back ends somewhere on the front of your body, and being in front of it, would mean facing you.

I suppose that's enough rambling.


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Cool post.

Love the Fight Club-esque feel.

Is that what home is like for some people? Where you are supposed to feel comfortable and accepted? Huh, who knew?