Airports
Music: Valley of the Shadow - Thomas Newman (Little Women soundtrack)
I have always liked airports. Despite the fact that I'm not a huge fan of flying itself, I always looked forward to going to the airport. I like to be surrounded by people who are coming and going. Nobody stays put for too long in an airport. The reason I think I am attracted to this environment is because I'm an escapist. I like to retreat from myself and try to get away from things. A lot of people do this, but in different ways. Drinking, sleeping around, doing drugs, eating. We all self-medicate, because things are too hard sometimes. But my escapism is an actual phsyical escape. I used to drive around a lot. I used to drive completely out of my way just to get away. One time in the winter of my senior year of high school, I began driving to school, and then all of a sudden my hands took the steering wheel and quickly made a right turn when it should have made a left. My mind was saying, I shouldn't do this, but I kept going. I drove around for almost an hour before being late to school. I remember thinking, I just can't do this today. I can't. I need to not be here. So I drove off, and I drove through the country. I thought about nothing. Nothing except the idea that I was trying to get away. I could have driven all day.
Airports hold this same kind of metaphorical world where I can escape life and hope for something better. There is something intoxicating about standing in an airport and watching people with their rolling suitcases and boarding passes purposefully stride towards their gate or the baggage claim. It's like I try to take in their energy, because I look at them and think, These people are living. They're going somewhere. I want to be like that, but so many times I'm just frozen, suspended by my own inability to not fear and not worry, and at times, my inability to make decisions or to make decisions and stick with them. I want so badly to become somebody else at that moment and ask someone if I can come with them to start over. Start from scratch. I'll go anywhere. Minnesota. Washington. Georgia. Hell, I'd even carry their luggage.... anything so that I don't have to be me right then. But I know it's not possible, and that it shouldn't be. So I just stand there, safe in my paralysis, watching everyone else do what I want to do myself, and try to make it be enough. But it never is. It fills me up for a few minutes, and then I go back to wondering: when am I going to live how I dream of living? When will I feel filled up, at peace? When will I be able to really lift myself up from these cheap leather chairs in the terminal and board the plane? And not because someone told me to? I need to get over the fear of departing and the fear of flying if I'm ever going to go anywhere.


Where am I going?
I have always liked airports. Despite the fact that I'm not a huge fan of flying itself, I always looked forward to going to the airport. I like to be surrounded by people who are coming and going. Nobody stays put for too long in an airport. The reason I think I am attracted to this environment is because I'm an escapist. I like to retreat from myself and try to get away from things. A lot of people do this, but in different ways. Drinking, sleeping around, doing drugs, eating. We all self-medicate, because things are too hard sometimes. But my escapism is an actual phsyical escape. I used to drive around a lot. I used to drive completely out of my way just to get away. One time in the winter of my senior year of high school, I began driving to school, and then all of a sudden my hands took the steering wheel and quickly made a right turn when it should have made a left. My mind was saying, I shouldn't do this, but I kept going. I drove around for almost an hour before being late to school. I remember thinking, I just can't do this today. I can't. I need to not be here. So I drove off, and I drove through the country. I thought about nothing. Nothing except the idea that I was trying to get away. I could have driven all day.
Airports hold this same kind of metaphorical world where I can escape life and hope for something better. There is something intoxicating about standing in an airport and watching people with their rolling suitcases and boarding passes purposefully stride towards their gate or the baggage claim. It's like I try to take in their energy, because I look at them and think, These people are living. They're going somewhere. I want to be like that, but so many times I'm just frozen, suspended by my own inability to not fear and not worry, and at times, my inability to make decisions or to make decisions and stick with them. I want so badly to become somebody else at that moment and ask someone if I can come with them to start over. Start from scratch. I'll go anywhere. Minnesota. Washington. Georgia. Hell, I'd even carry their luggage.... anything so that I don't have to be me right then. But I know it's not possible, and that it shouldn't be. So I just stand there, safe in my paralysis, watching everyone else do what I want to do myself, and try to make it be enough. But it never is. It fills me up for a few minutes, and then I go back to wondering: when am I going to live how I dream of living? When will I feel filled up, at peace? When will I be able to really lift myself up from these cheap leather chairs in the terminal and board the plane? And not because someone told me to? I need to get over the fear of departing and the fear of flying if I'm ever going to go anywhere.


Where am I going?

