Airplanes are strange things.
I'm not sure how they work, really.
Something about air flowing both over and under their massive wings.
I haven't even been on many;
Maybe 4 or 5 in my life.
I could really care less.
There are so many other ways I could travel,
Ones that are much more appealing.
Trains and boats and cars and bikes;
Even my own two feet are more interesting to me than air travel.
But planes change my life every day.
People are always getting on them and leaving
And they always say they will be back,
But those big machines take you so far,
Far away.
And it seems that even if you get back on one and come home
Just getting on one once makes you far more likely to board them again
And again.
Once you take yr feet off the ground
And into the sky
It is harder to stay put.
Stability has been lost in such a huge way
That you may never be able to regain it again;
You will just keep drifting off the ground for the rest of yr life.
Oh, technology...
Oh, magnetic poles...
Always pulling,
Pulling,
Pulling...
