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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1809568-Morning-Flight
Rated: E · Monologue · Writing · #1809568
A young girl observes her surroundings wondering why she feels lonely in a crowded plane
Yoav Ft. Emily Browning - Where is my mind
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9BDgtcdWZQ
Image
http://visboo.com/img/16042010/48121.jpg

It is still still morning. My senses have not yet met with full vividity. But then again, excuses apart, they might not either for the rest of the day. Although, hope should be the last to depart from this plane.

Looking blankly ahead and then attentively downwards, for it is the one way that my mind is set to see clearly and my eyes set to see shady, I find that the sole function of the hours that together make up today is to distort the way away, and...

There are enough hours in this flight for me to write my memo. One that I shan`t have time or greyed matter space to remind myself of. So I am for the next long hours ahead bound to this place, just as I am bound to lose this sheet either physically or emotionally and so, upon reading it again, completely lose its meaning, or alter it, in the most positive light of possibilities.

However, just as my apparent boredom, the sheet shall remain, just like a washed over and over again stain, only leaving as the cloth is torn, and God knows when mine is to meet such a fate.

Looking again under the criterion of what was previously described as the "only way" I observe strangers in a blue and grey space. All wandering about, passing by. Without my glasses I watch them in improved quality, I see them in more clarity, for it is the images what fool the mind. The disturbing perception of the eyes, observing the bodies, a shapeless sight. Where are we all going? Where did we all come from? Where is our mind?

A final destination, or merely just a stop, either way, the flight continues, and good or bad, for the next six hours, we are one combined, wheter we want it or not, and as we surely know, in the most probability, upon choice, It can be easily argued we would not. Still, my dear, still morning, here we are, so different, but that`s just fine.

Hello common fate. Hello destiny.Hello false sense of community. Individualism survives.

Hello morning flight.
© Copyright 2011 Xzariah (xzariah at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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