by Alyssa Smith March. 15, 2017 881 views

I'm sitting waiting for this plane to take off for Iceland. I'm listening to my music on shuffle and watching people move on the tarmac. We are beginning to move. I'm leaving LA to fly across the country. I want to document this part because the person I'll be when I come back is not who I am now. I imagine I'll be stronger, more resilient, able to think creatively under pressure. I don't know though. Right now I'm still me. It's odd to think that there are people over there that will be my life long friends and I haven't met them yet. There are so many things in store for me and I don't know any of them yet. I'm in the preface of my book. It's like there is something fantastical in a room, but it's under a sheet. I can't see it yet. How odd beginnings are, the feeling of being on the precipice, the brink of something but you have no idea what it is. It's a thrilling sobering thought. I'm writing this on the plane taking me to my future; in 5 months, I'll be on a plane taking me home. Me and the girl on the plane bound home are the bread and all the experiences we have in between make up the rest of the sandwich. In a way I'm jealous of her. She knows everything that's going to happen. She's at the end of her adventure, learned everything. Instead of plans and ideas, she has memories. I'm sure in a way she's jealous of me, having no idea what's going to happen, I have the whole experience ahead of me. Nothing is set in stone. I hold all the power. I get to make all the choices. She has to accept that it's in the past and can't change things. There are benefits to both I suppose. Lucky me. I get to experience both and everything in between. The plane just left the ground; we just broke through the cloud forest. Now it's a big fluffy blanket covering the sleepy land below me. 

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Shimna M 4 years, 1 month ago

Nice writing and nice images :)

4 years, 1 month ago Edited