What I mean when I say I don't like flying
The Muse Letter No. 78
and the ocean looks hard as concrete
from above
you cannot see a wave moving
and i wonder if you got close enough
to your skin
close to the cells
it would be like the ocean crushing waves on our bodies
we are after all mostly
made of water
What I mean when I say I don’t like flying is that I do it but with fear in my stomach, with the utmost existential dread, it’s not that I can’t do it: I would prefer not to.
If I knew where it came from (I do but) if I could change that feeling, that fear I would because it hasn’t always been like this. The first time I took a flight was from Düsseldorf to Frankfurt: everything was fine. The second time was the consecutive flight from Frankfurt to Thailand: again, fine. One year later the return journey: also fine. It was fine for a couple of times more. And then it stopped –