my seat is halfway leaned back and bass is pounding in my ears as I dream,
traveling has always made me oddly poetic, even when the people sitting in the row ahead are shaking the seats and cutting through the high volume on my headphones.
the window next to me is the only one remaining open on our side of the plane–
the sun’s glare is often too harsh but I have never liked to close the shades.
many flights have gone by where I am content staring outside for long hours,
tracing over the hills when we take off and the clouds as we soar.
I often wish that the glass panels were larger–
in order to fully see, my back must hunch and my neck must stretch and my forehead ends up against the cold window pane…
but I start to wonder what a plane would be like without any windows, no portals to the world whizzing by outside,
a cold metal wall protecting our eyes from the sun’s rays but inhibiting the rush of flight–
when I look out the window, I can fly.
I wrote this on the plane ride to Barcelona, Spain but wasn’t able to post it until now due to the terribleness of wifi. International travel can sometimes be a real struggle.
I’ve been uncharacteristically into K-pop recently…