Up In The Air
I could see the moon clearly from my window and the setting sun on the other side. The clouds were above us and the land below. We were in the middle of everything and I thought, this is why I love flying. It gives you a perspective of the world that you cannot see when you're a part of it.
It makes everything small and it gives me a separate peace from all the mess below. My mind feels less cluttered, as if nothing can weigh me down and nothing really matters. There's a great distance between me and my life below, as if when I'm in flight I do not participate in my life. It's a pause, a way to see things from afar--objectively.
That's how I felt when I moved some eight thousand miles away from the Philippines. I felt detached from my old life, a kind of isolation that gave me perspective on everything that has happened before. Whatever the drama, however small Manila had felt, was beyond me already. I could just as easily disconnect myself online and choose who to correspond with without my actions and words misconstrued and misinterpreted. I felt no need to say my piece for whatever news would reach me because everything's so far away. With time and distance, I know that everything will eventually die down and I could live in quietude.
Recently, an acquaintance sent me a message and brought up some news that I thought were dated, back when I was fodder for gossip in some circles. And I thought to myself, shouldn't that be retired already? He was looking for an answer, a reaction, but I thought it was such a long time ago already that bringing it up now was just amusing. It's the way I feel remembering the time I flipped my car upside down in C5. At that time it was a big deal crashing my car and totally wrecking it, but now I can laugh at the whole incident, chalking it up to the recklessness of my youth.
There's a wide gap between then and now; between those who've made a thousand opinions and where I am now. It's hard to get affected when you're up in the air, when what looks like mountains are just molehills. When all that chatter are nothing but faraway noise; moving mouths whose voices do not reach you.