Plane Plain Insane
Row 37, seat C is an aisle seat. Luckily. My legs are free to extend out as frequently as the baby three rows behind me is crying. Cute baby though. Good thing there are headphones and the choice for music that is conducive for writing. The words that were said between my parents and I before I saw them last were very brief. I am bad at goodbyes I realized. I barely make eye contact and hardly turn back for a final wave. Not to mention, I usually fluster for words. Some people use the opener for the bottle of emotions, my mom was the only one this time. She didn’t open completely, just enough for me to feel the lid hiss. I had repeatedly told my mom not to cry, but she didn’t fight her emotions. Maybe it was a motherly defense mechanism, her way of fighting FOR me to stay. It didn’t bother me, but it provoked me to start generalizing about things. Something plain and simple came to mind: sometimes people fight it, sometimes they fight FOR it. The it I am talking about is usually an intangible. But maybe the it can be anything? I don’t know. I’ll have to revisit this, I am the only insane guy with the light on onboard. Don’t stop yourself from visiting it. At least you won’t need a boarding pass or passport.
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