(written from a plane, on my way down to Los Angeles)

That familiar feeling of ‘taking flight’ has rooted itself deep in my soul again. Almost like waves in the ocean, up and down it goes, and I am very high up this time. 35,082 feet to be exact.

I don’t know why I can’t shake it, and even when it threatens my relationships with everyone, I keep giving in. Like a serious drug addict who knows how good it feels to be high, even knowing it will hurt in the long run. I can’t keep this up, but there is the constant thought in the back of my head whispering “What if you can…”

Running just feels so good. My muscles tired and sore after the fact, but so brutally intact, and I feel alive again. Human again. God, what a feeling. There is nothing quite like the knowledge that someone understands, because isn’t that what we all want anyway? Someone who gets us, who sees deep down into that secret place and is like “Yeah, I totally see your point”, and you feel like you can breathe again. Someone fucking gets it. Except for me that someone isn’t actually a ‘someone’, but it’s how I see the universe as a whole, as my dearest friend who gets me regardless of the stupid shit I say and do. That someone sees me for exactly who I am and what I want to become, and steps aside when needed to say “Do it. Do it all“.

Should I go find a tree and hug it?

Something will always be missing until one day, it isn’t. I just want to do it all and see it all, and I don’t even know what “it” is, but it sure sounds like I need to experience it too.

Time to land.