(pahabol ulit. I unloaded the other stuff from my suitcases and remembered about this just now.)
Last time I heard the stewardess, she said we'd be on the ground in about 5 hours. Oh, pardon me. That was 'flight attendant'. I'm sorry.
Anyway, it seems like the lightheadedness(?) I feel right now is really associated to flying. It's just fortunate that this is all I feel, as the guy across me in the aisle started needing oxygen for some reason more severe.
And just as I stand up in a failed attempt to pee during turbulence, the stew- flight attendants start to group up on another passenger nearby that apparently passed out.
Doesn't sound like much, but hey, the fear of the possibility of something nasty happening is more intense up here. On the other hand, I'd care less if I watched 2 people on a plane require medical assistance in fast succession on TV.
(On an added note, the in-flight movie was Lord of War. Grenades, anyone?)
This leads me to think that fear is inversely proportional to the number of options we have, given a situation.
And when you're a few thousand feet off the ground (or somewhere around the north of the Pacific Ocean as the main passenger screen shows), you wouldn't have a whisper of an option, right?
Wrong.
Right now the old guy is breathing fine and they're handing crackers out. Much aning over nothing. In the high and mighty words of the late Rick James (BITCH!),
"Cocaine's a hell of a drug!"
Check that. I haven't been anywhere near any drug while I was in the states, just to clear things out. No, the top class, grade A narcotic that I've been taking was gathered, brewed, and cut all in the convenience of my own brain; previously thought to be fear (which, currently, could be either too brutal or too far out), but cynicism. Nowadays I define that attitude to be the absolute expression of true doubt of anything good. I recognize this to be a key reason as to why I'm uptight, anal, and well, obnoxious during times of stress, exploration, a combination of both, or otherwise.
You can trace this further by saying that the source of this cynicism is based on past experience and the witnessing of countless acts of incompetence by people thought to be more superior. This source, if we x out past experience (or take the effect of it, perhaps) can be rephrased as a total dependence on and only on (!?) myself... a.k.a. pride.
I used to think that when the strength of friends and family fails, you have to rely on yourself to get things done. unfortunately, with countless events resulting in more people being considered as mere statistics in a rate which goes dangerously faster day after day, there is only so much that the human body can handle, much less withstand. With every day that more children are born to live in an immoral world which will not think twice about ruining or ending moral lives, the possibilities of my/your/our lives ending in a split second are no longer laughable.
Viruses will continue to evolve and kill, intolerance will continue to harbor hatred resulting in wars and genocides, disasters will continue to kill people and jeopardize the survival of those left behind.
You can say it seriously now. We're all gonna die.
Yet i refuse to believe that the human race, with its infathomable variations in depth and qualities of emotions, was created through estimated millenia of continued development leading to our eventual eradication as a species to yield to a superior life form. I'd like to thank Guy Pearce in Time Machine for this one.
Not only is it unreasonable to think otherwise, but I join whoever thought about this first: That man wants to believe in God.
(To be continued upon landing and adjustment)