landings

Take offs & Landings.

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The road leads back to you and familiar far off places. I am leaving in various directions to far off destinations. Anywhere but here, and yet every where and in between. Leaving pieces of myself in different cityscapes and landscapes. Taking with me only what I need to live and survive. Leaving on a jet plane, and who knows when I’ll be back again.

When you’re far from home, you hardly miss it. You stay trapped in the subliminal bliss of journeys that await you. A new story, a familiar place, pieces of strangers that await you on the other side. I could sit in a million seats in crowded places, but nothing compares to the life you see from the gates to terminals. The comings and goings, take offs and landings. Where are we going? Home or further from it? Far off destinations that soon lead you home. I could open my heart and give a piece of it to every person that leaves before me. Open my heart to the strangers and their journeys. Its the strangers that facisnate me. That leave to places I’ll never see, places I’ll never know. We are only the same from the terminal to the gates. Then off on to our journeys and the life that awaits. I leave my past to enjoy the present that awaits me. Familiar places with different faces. Each journey farther from home but eventually leading me home.

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Time stands still. Remembering people, remembering stories and the memories of who we are and who we were. With each trip I am learning, with each trip I am growing up. Searching for parts of myself that I didn’t think would ever exist outside the boundaries of my hometown. My hands shake in anticipation of a new adventure. I can only keep going from here. Embrace this adventure and the people I will encounter. For a brief moment in time, I am connected to these people. To the people that leave and the people that return. We are all connected to an adventure of finding things about ourselves, and growing from each and every experience. Its those strangers that I love, its those strangers that I connect to.

Miles from home, I never feel alone. Miles from home I feel a connection to this life, this illusion of living in and out of a big fat suitcase. Being on the road, I feel more connected to myself then staying in one place. Between take offs and landings is where I feel at home. Up in the sky, floating through the clouds in this never ending dreamland. If you could see me now, if you could see how I fly. If only you could understand that staying in one place, never suited me at all. But being miles away from home, and miles to go before I sleep, at this moment I feel just fine.

 

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8/12/2015 – Day Six.

I didn’t tell anyone I was traveling. I didn’t make some epic post on social media. I didn’t even give a hint that I was going. I wasn’t up to all of it to be completely honest. If I had to be really honest, I really just wanted to disappear. I didn’t want to die, even if at times I felt that way. I just didn’t feel the need to tell anyone anything. It probably sounds stupid and juvenile but I’ve always been so public about different aspects of myself. Just this once, I didn’t want to say anything.

I haven’t been sleeping well for the past couple of weeks. This wave of paranoia hit me like something out of a nightmare. I’ve travelled thousands of times. Thousands of times alone or with friends. This time felt different, that I was hiding from something I couldn’t contain anymore. I thought I was going to lose it in the check-in line. I thought I was going to lose it in security. I thought I was going to cancel this trip right in the airport. If I had it in me, I would change my ticket and fly to a million different places. Places where no one would find me. I am clouded with this idea that we have to tell people where we are and what we are doing, but I just want to get lost and leave. Disappear completely. Disappear in the sights and sounds of places where only few people would find me. As of this point, I can’t do it anymore. I can’t pretend that this is just something that happens to people. At this point in my life, I don’t know if I can survive these feelings. Its haunting my life to the point that I can’t sleep anymore. I am hurting in places, I don’t want to hurt anymore. I am holding on by a very thin thread and at any given moment I will break.

Airports are always interesting places. I have spent a good amount of time at airports. Coming and going, take off and landings. I always felt it was the most loneliest place you could be. You’re never sure if someone’s journey is just beginning or ending. I become fascinated by strangers, their stories and their lives. I could sit and people watch for hours. I could sit down in the countless chairs by the gates and watch people. People on their phones, gossiping with people, people reading books, everything. You almost want to open your heart to these people and invite them in. See who they are and share a piece of yourself. In many ways thats what drives my madness. This need to share a piece of myself and open my heart to people. I’ve been fearful of people hurting me again, that I didn’t realize I was only hurting myself. I go on all these trips to find myself to scare myself. To prove to myself how much I can do on my own. When it’s the comfort of people I really seek. A smile from a stranger, a “good morning” from a neighbor, a “thank you” from a person sitting next to you.

We are all connected by strings and when we least expect it to we cut our strings to be free from everyone. We don’t realize how desperately we need these strings. How we’d stop the world to restring ourselves to all these people. I want to learn to live without these strings and realize I need these strings as much as I need to be free. I want to disappear and I want strings to pull me back to myself. I don’t know. I found myself in my seat on the plane and as we were descending into my final destination, I realized how much I missed the adventure of life. Everything I’ve done in my life had been completely out of the norm of everyone else’s life. I had been feeling guilty of steering off the path, that I was bringing myself down. I missed adventure, I missed different places, I missed what I loved about life. A lot has changed since my last trip, and I knew that. I watched as the plane slowly circled the city and realized I missed the comfort of home and the comfort of people. I needed to be alone with my darkness to realize how much I don’t need a lot of things. Looking down at the city with it’s buildings and cars and people, I felt so insignificant. Harboring all this pain has made me feel like a stranger to many people, but I felt like a stranger to myself. Before I could enjoy the view, I couldn’t help but start to cry.

I don’t know who I am anymore, and I am not sure I ever will.