Dreams, Stories, Feelings,
in the vast blue sky,
Clueless. Helpless. Mindless.
Sometimes, we chance upon thunderstorms, and
Sometimes, we see rainbows.
But we keep moving on.
Where to, though?
To meet another storm?
To see another rainbow?
To find another sky?
They say,
It's the journey, not the destination.
But what's the Journey,
If there's no Destination?
In our little planes, we sit, sometimes alone, sometimes with a co-pilot, sometimes with many co-pilots. Isn't it nice? To have a co-pilot while we wander through the overwhelming emptiness, while we attempt to make it through the seemingly crucial thunderstorms hoping to come out alive, while we see the rainbow and reach the pot of gold.
I'm sitting in my little plane, with all my co-pilots. It's funny how we are so close to each other, and yet I can't hear them. It's almost like they are not there. I wonder if they can hear me...
Suddenly, my plane started jerking back and forth. I grab for the controls, my mind racing and my heart thumping. Nothing's happening. I grab for another one, still Nothing.
I start to scream and shout, and as I flail my arms around for help, I feel the glass around me.
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