It feels like a familiar feeling, the wind under my wings as I spread my arms. A half-remembered feeling, all I have to do is close my eyes and feel the surge. And I almost feel the wind billowing under my wings. I've tried rationalizing, telling myself what I remember is just walking across the street on a very windy day. Rising higher, higher.
Nine years since I wrote these lines. Longer since I've published anything here on. My very own time capsule, the drafts section. I'm looking at my reflection in a mirror light years away from me, and I don't know if I recognize the person staring back at me.
Maybe it's a good thing. Maybe not. I had felt like I had literal wind beneath my literal arms/imaginary wings when we'd drive in relative darkness on a freeway. A half-remembered feeling. My feet and my head are more grounded these days, and now I only vaguely recollect that I used to feel like I was flying at some point in time.
All this to say that I've lost the thread that this fanciful introduction was gently tugging at. It was going to be something about the wonder that the almost-flying brings with it, I think.
It feels like flying, but maybe, we're dying. - A song popular on TikTok/Instagram these days, released in 2019. (At least one of these platforms didn't exist when I started writing this.)
