f e a r . o f . f l y i n g

i am always afraid of flying. it doesn’t feel right.
Penetrating the sky in a heavy aluminum tube sounds eerie.
not as simple as an earthworm’s journey under the soil.
it takes some time for me to be comfortable in my seat.
i transport myself into one of dali' s paintings sometimes,
and just trust the technology and believe in the unknown.

i remember my early flying experiences.
the magical memory of flying over mount renoir
the surreal castles of clouds near and far, up and down,
i remember vividly, flying over arabian sands, distant oasises,
waves of dry mountains and the endless blue of the pacific,
once, in london seeing the rain over the buckingham palace.
a shrap memory of a tiny cruiser blazing across the atlantic blue.
my first flight over manhattan was on a saturday night years ago
and it felt like i was in the movie ‘blade runner’
i like the window seat and its coziness
clouds dance deep down in a different time lapse,
i can see the dusty wind over the vast plains,
and the dreamy mist over the mississippi delta
visuals fill my face with high spirit and warmth
i am always afraid of flying, but i kind of love it...

i think we all get this humble feeling of smallness,
when we look down at humans, my own species,
totally lost between the foldings down below, restless like ants,
our wars, petty problems and conflicts...love, as well...
in a way, flying changes one's perspective for ever.
i am always afraid of flying, then agian, who isn't?