"This place had a heartbeat in its day."
For some reasons i can't explain, a brutal way to ameliorate anxiety is positioning myself into another duty. Embodied by mobility, airport evokes thinking as much as hearkening — the highest stage of listening: only to listen. It grows as a form of sensory participation of a field without attaching any meaning to sounds and therefore allows the subject and object of this acoustic event to entangle. Those who can and do hearken hold an intensity that keeps them sensitive to the environment they entered and altered. Am i among them? At least i could let sounds penetrate through the body; it cures and splits all at once, incorporating debris of imagination, action, and aspiration.
Sounds do not disappear, only dissipate; so do voices. The line between volition and ideal no longer equivocal; I’m taking a chance, a fall, a shot. In dreams I hardly dream a figure who hasn't yet show up — perhaps becoming. And yet amorphous, heavy worries kept me awake. Again, i flowed with them — into billows that would otherwise engulf hope. What those worries eclipsed was memory, an anchor of sentience that fears going on fire. Experiences dissipate, lowing the volume, silent, but sometimes, it haunts anyway, earsplitting.
Later this Fall i’m getting to know every route in this county and tell thee where not to speed. As i split the road down the middle, gusty wind invades the turmoil, ever torn. I almost froze. In seconds the world seems so simple. Perturbation surrounds, and i don't know that i can take another fight. A timid grim, drowsiness incriminates me escaping into unmade blanket and unmatched timezone. Not having to make sense is such a luxury. And I really love the sense of unsettlement writing brings me; it exposes something I didn’t know I know. 5: 43 pm December 5, 2025. Islands District. 22 Celsius. 56% humidity. Right off the port. It feels more foggy than my August arrival but the exact moisture permeates. I still hold the thrill, you know? “Having no regrets is all that i really want.”
AWE Zone A. A2, 379. The distance of a few seats took me 364 days.
It is in the most unlikely situation that I understand the dynamics between me and the uncontrollable. Then the message it carries is: suppressing expectations on others might help but the expedient decision made by the self refuses any Plan B. And I won’t fan the heat into flames. Gigantic windows, sparsely populated seat, Nodi ***** and my RD Batch#1 DRAFT7.5. No one is wrong; 'tis the last substratum of lived experience. By the way, I skipped meal again, defying Prof.Maxine’s note but not another: stay hydrated.
The plane was taking off. Overweight and weightlessness, all-consuming.