Airport

Large glass windows, steel, concrete.

Lots of motor vehicles, belts, constant motion.

It’s well after noon and things are not as rapid as they usually are.

Why? Is it because it’s raining? That could well be the reason.

People all look the same, but you can usually tell where they’re from.

Sometimes it’s fun to guess, but not knowing the answer makes the game quite dull.

Single player games are never fun, but given the atmosphere, there’s not much else to do.

At least it’s good to have time to think… but think about what? I don’t want to think of my obligations, which I’ve put off until I return from my second destination. I could think of my past, try to learn something about myself, but no, that seems too intense for right now. I’m comfortable. The temperature is right, even though the window view isn’t so nice.

I could think about how much concrete was used to build this place; surely enough for a sidewalk all the way around the world, twice. The sky is clearing up, not so dark as it was half an hour ago, but it’s too late, it already set the mood for the day, and with dusk approaching, the day is already gone. These days are the epitome of autumn weather.

Would I be comfortable in this same position, only at some other place on the globe? What if I were waiting in Heathrow, Madrid, Argentina? Would I be as comfortable? Maybe I’ve reserved the next days free, and whether I achieve my planned goals or not, I’m ok, as long as I’ve fulfilled my absence from the everyday life. But, while life here is comfortable in this moment, it almost feels eternal; it feels eternally boring, but content. The sun is now playing again. He’s forcing people to take off their obnoxious rain jackets. He’s pushing the dark clouds to the side, and the white clouds along with them. Pretty soon he’ll clear the entire sky of clouds and show how he is the one who controls this entire playground.

Short sleeves are reappearing. He even dictates dress code. The ground was once covered in water, not a dry spot to be seen, but now the water is leaving and the ground is drying; Genesis fast-forwarded.

A transport is taking people in a circle, just as everything is circular.

Now I’m thinking. Thinking about life in an abstract, nonsensical way that I understand, even if my understanding is paper thin, superficial, and fragile; in this moment, no one is here to break my concentration; no one can destroy my complete content with reality, life, and existence; I have created a snow globe, and I own who I am; I am me.

Of course I was right, phase two has commenced, and the white clouds are now scarce.

Social interaction is here again, laughing, back to work. News commentators are blabbing in the background about recession, speculating, proposing conspiracy theories that will take more prominence and hold a stronger truth value than those others, simply because they have the name behind them, simply because they are on a name brand news station. People will eat it. I remember when I was small, I thought doctors were like factories, producing flawless cures; have you ever seen two of the same toy that look dissimilar? Factories produce no error.

Blue, blue, white, and blue; the sky transforms by the will of the sun. It’s a relief that makes me sleepy. Relief is the wrong word, because it implies that something had been bothering or worrisome; I am content, unaffected by the weather patterns, protected by my large glass, steel, and concrete masterpiece. The sun has no bearing on my mood, or my understanding of what is.

Some mothers have undisciplined children. Children, finally something I don’t understand, but at least it’s a circle. They’re just like the elderly; they start out small, needy, and reliant; they end up small, needy, and reliant; they can both be cute, but are also both a burden.

Everyone has a boss in some way or another. Well, almost everyone.  We’re all governed by something, be it time, society, culture, religion, money, love, friendship, communication.

Half an hour, that’s all I have left. My boss has just come over the intercom and informed me that I have half an hour. On standby, which is normal. I wonder how long I can continue to be content. I wish I could make excuses to maintain this state.

I lied. Even behind my shield I feel something moving in me. I didn’t anticipate the colors interacting with this mood, state, at this time of day, in this current way that I am understanding things. My understanding was just lifted from me. Blue, yellow, white, navy, beauty, slowly dragging; purple joins. Beauty is understanding. Or maybe bliss is simply beauty. I’m still comfortable, but not thinking anymore. Again, a circle.

This moment could not be more perfect. I’ve forgotten what I’m waiting for. I hope death is just like this.

I don’t understand after all; how amazing is God.