i feel more at home at the airport than just about anywhere else. something is comfortable about the strangers rushing to get from place to place and the extreme nature of emotions that fluctuate throughout. tears over leaving, excitement over adventuring elsewhere, shear terror on the idea of stepping on a plane. i found myself this year on plane after plane and i realized that this is what i want. i want to dine over the atlantic ocean and fall asleep on the east coast and wake up on the west. it isn’t the life for everyone i think most people prefer the comfort of their bed to the chairs in the gate area, but my passion to escape everything from home, people, and even the constraint of gravity has made me romanticize the idea of air travel. so here i sit at gate B63 awaiting another adventure. everyone asks what i am doing upon landing and to be honest i really have no idea. exploring the world i live in, spending time with people i care about, and making memories. now if only i can figure out a way to turn that mantra into a life plan. ideas anyone?
