Airports: A Study in Mutual Frustration
The people on the plane before me just got their flight cancelled. Honestly hope that doesn't happen to me, I might go nuts. Airports are a study in transience, seeing only little snippets of people. I wonder what I must look like to everyone, with my black eye and my rumpled clothing and sleep-deprived bumbling.
I love people watching in airports. A sense of deep exhaustion pervades this place which reminds me of limbo, of purgatory. We're all caught in between legitimate moments in our lives, stuck in stasis in this shiny grey linoleum world, a study in careful neutrality. The music falls just short of soothing and borders on heinous. Frustrated passengers line up in front of me, bodies slumped with scuppered plans. Everyone's faces are blank. They're not here, in this stale present, and who could blame them? They're pre-living their next moment, or re-living ones past. I understand this, because an airport is a bad place to be in the existential sense of the word. Airports require the heroism of endurance to play Herculean waiting games.
The sky is grey and pensive and I'd love a cup of tea and a good book but I have coffee and the scent of strangers. Not that I'm unhappy, I'm just tired and, like my fellow travelers, frozen in time. I'm a terrible traveler, things falling out of bags, things forgotten, things misplaced, all followed by a volley of expletives and sleep deprivation. I'd probably consider it endearing in anyone else, but in me it's just infuriating. I'm like my dad in that respect, other people's faults possess a certain charm, but my own are intolerable!
I never liked mustaches. Beards have rugged sex appeal, but mustaches bother me for some reason. People whose eyes crinkle when they smile win my heart instantly, and puppies never fail to make me melt. All the disenfranchised passengers are banding together and sharing quips and banter and it makes me smile. Poor, confused people in transit. I love them, I do. We suffer in stagnant solidarity.
I hope you're having a lovely day!!! :) You light up my life.
I love people watching in airports. A sense of deep exhaustion pervades this place which reminds me of limbo, of purgatory. We're all caught in between legitimate moments in our lives, stuck in stasis in this shiny grey linoleum world, a study in careful neutrality. The music falls just short of soothing and borders on heinous. Frustrated passengers line up in front of me, bodies slumped with scuppered plans. Everyone's faces are blank. They're not here, in this stale present, and who could blame them? They're pre-living their next moment, or re-living ones past. I understand this, because an airport is a bad place to be in the existential sense of the word. Airports require the heroism of endurance to play Herculean waiting games.
The sky is grey and pensive and I'd love a cup of tea and a good book but I have coffee and the scent of strangers. Not that I'm unhappy, I'm just tired and, like my fellow travelers, frozen in time. I'm a terrible traveler, things falling out of bags, things forgotten, things misplaced, all followed by a volley of expletives and sleep deprivation. I'd probably consider it endearing in anyone else, but in me it's just infuriating. I'm like my dad in that respect, other people's faults possess a certain charm, but my own are intolerable!
I never liked mustaches. Beards have rugged sex appeal, but mustaches bother me for some reason. People whose eyes crinkle when they smile win my heart instantly, and puppies never fail to make me melt. All the disenfranchised passengers are banding together and sharing quips and banter and it makes me smile. Poor, confused people in transit. I love them, I do. We suffer in stagnant solidarity.
I hope you're having a lovely day!!! :) You light up my life.