In the air...

I have the strongest urge to write, but what is there to write? I could write about how leaving a place hurts, no matter how long you are there whether it be a few days or a few decades. I could write about the pain that flows through your body when you find yourself surrounded by 100 soldiers, all leaving their families to go back over seas. I could write about how the sea of lights spread out to the edge of nights world at 27 thousand feet in the air. Maybe I could write about the reluctance to lend out your one pen to a girl that has thoughts flooding her mind, even for the hour left in the flight. There is the option to jot down the webs of feelings floating around the bubbles of thought in my mind. Emotions of peace, joy, sadness, sorrow, loneliness, accomplishment. Maybe the sense of accomplishment after taking another step in life on your own.

As I am writing this, I am sitting on a plane, halfway back to Jackson. I am looking out the window, torn between keeping the blind up or yanking it down. Outside, everything is black which brings out the yellows and oranges of street lights and buildings quite nicely. On the ground, you don't think of houses being withing a 20 mile radius of you at all times. When you drive for 2 hours down a road bordered by trees the entire way, you do not think of the cul-de-sacs that could be just a few minutes drive to the left of right. Up here in the air, there are lights everywhere. The only places where no lights are present, bodies of water are found. I can not help but think of all of the people down there, about the sheer number of people, and how, no matter how many different places you go, you will never find everyone in one, much less several, lifetimes. Makes me wonder how many people in that large group actually think of the rest of the population living in that single twenty mile radius.

If I look straight out, just ahead, even in the darkness you can see where the sky starts and where our planet begins. My eyes have to strain, but I can just make out the few bright ones shining. What if it was all turned over? The lights on the ground become stars, and the few bright planets become towns or small local grocery stores? Could you imagine? Maybe that will be what I write about. A night sky full of orange and yellow lights while the planet below is dotted with the occasional white light. No streets, no factories, no empty lots lit up with the sickly white buzzing lights of reality.

We will see.


~Nomers