I may be flying a complicated airplane, rushing through space, but in this cabin I'm surrounded by simplicity and thoughts set free of time. How detached the intimate things around me seem from the great world down below. How strange is this combination of proximity and separation. That ground — seconds away — thousands of miles away. This air, stirring mildly around me. That air, rushing by with the speed of a tornado, an inch beyond. These minute details in my cockpit. The grandeur of the world outside. The nearness of death. The longness of life.
meow wrote:Kids swimming over their heads in propaganda. The only option is to grow gils or drown. It used to be ankle deep, but now it's ten stories high and somehow shallower than ever.
- Dave Grohl
Mango Salsa wrote:"That's the worst stig we've ever had." -Jeremy Clarkson
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