back to the future!
Every time I fly from the US to the EU, I “lose” time… I arrive 6-7 hours beyond that which I have experienced in “real time”. I return to a place I used to feel at home, and half of my day just disappears. It’s definitely a strange sensation. In the opposite direction, you eat the time up like PacMan… it’s as if the flight never happened. If you can get a direct 7-8 hour flight from Europe to the USA, at least in the NY Timezone, you will arrive at the exact time of day that you boarded the plane. It’s happened to me a few times. You board a plane on Monday at 8pm, you travel 7+ hours to arrive in Detroit at 8pm the same day. It rattles the human brain.
I watch stiff, seemingly soul-less Swiss ( + other wealthy folk) wait, frustrated, cuz they paid extra to board the plane before “normal” folk, yet they’re being made to wait. You can taste the tension. The Swiss are too rich to wait in line, they literally don’t know what the fuck to do. It’s hilarious. It’s like watching a very expensive, designer poodle let loose in the wild. Never seen dirt before. The confusion is something that the normal poor like me (the majority of the planet) have almost never seen. They pay extra, on the regular, to stay far away from us. When we are anywhere near them, it’s clear, the richest people on earth are like a totally different species. I bet they have no immune system, cuz they’ve never been exposed to anything outside their protected Realm. The entire society reminds me of the sickly boy in The Secret Garden- there’s nothing wrong with them, but they protect themselves too much, to ther own detriment, out of pure habit- and they’ve never been exposed to the joy of Real Life. I honestly feel bad for them, they look like babies that have been home-schooled, thrown in with Public School kids like myself, they’re drowning. And not cuz we’re drowning them, but because they never learned how to swim.
Today, I watch the sunrise over Frankfurt from the airport window, cuz my connecting flight was canceled. I was re-booked on a later flight, so I spent my morning writing in the Winston Smoker’s Lounge, drinking Jack & Coke out of a can (8 euro). I slowly and cynically make my way to the Gate at the correct time, but I know this game. It’s the Waiting Game. How well can you wait? I’m prepared for this stupid shit- comfortable clothing, noise-canceling headphones, a great playlist, pre-downloaded, incase the WiFi doesn’t work in the airport or the plane. Snacks. Water. Liquor. What could possibly go wrong? I can’t fly the plane, so I say the Serenity Prayer, I must forfeit my control of the situation to the airport staff. I prayed all morning, before I came here. There’s nothing else I can do. I accept that I might die today. I accept that I might not make it “home”. I accept that I don’t know what “home” even means right now. I accept the Unknown, and I walk into it blindly, with faith in God (God-fidence) and Big Dick Energy… and just like the Scizzors in Rock/Paper/Scizzors…. wins every time. Try it. In 38 years, I have NEVER ONCE lost at that game. Play Scizzors three times. Play ONLY Scizzors, like a die-hard lesbian. You will win every single time. Everyone expects you to switch positions, but if you commit to Scizzors, you fool everyone, every time. No one expects the Spanish Inquisition, as the Monty Pythons like to say. Try it. I’ve never lost a single round.
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