Planes

I always liked going on airplanes. Ever since I was a small child, I would get excited to board any flight. Small things like the airport duty-free made me excited. I don't know exactly why it was like that, maybe I just liked flying and looking outside the window. Possibly, I related flying to traveling and vacations. What I did realize was that every time I was on a plane, I would have the wildest dreams, ones that I would never have when I slept on the ground. It was the lightest sleep that I would get, yet the dreams would turn out to be the most intense. Was it the altitude? Was it the air pressure? Was it the lack of stable sleeping? None of it seemed to make sense, yet my imagination unlocked new doors each time.

The dream would have me waking up in the open sky, with God right in front of me. I could talk to them, like a conversation instead of just me speaking. I could see things that I could not before: true colors and emotions. I could see through acts and words. Yet, how could I know what I saw was the truth? It was all just hallucinations on a flying metal box. In these hallucinations, I had conversations I could not bear to have before. I dared to ask myself questions I didn't dare to ask before. Suddenly, in between all of these conversations between God and me, I could see everyone that I had brought pain to appear right in front of me. I was confused, caught in my steps. I didn't know how to react or speak up.

Slowly, it seemed to me as if my hands were then tied up. I fell out of the sky with no chance to slow down and land. On the ground, I was surrounded by more versions of myself. Each of them was from a different version, where I had decided on a different path. Each version of me pointed at me and hurled blame and abuse. The clouds in the sky collected, and it began to rain. Slowly, every version of myself that wasn't me began to wash away. It seemed as if the world was helping me fight myself. I flew back up into the clouds, and I was surrounded by mirrors. Just when I reached the top, God asked me a question: "What was it like?" I had no idea what they were talking about. I just looked directly into their eyes and said, "How was I supposed to know?"

Just as these thoughts got tangled up in my mind, as well as God's, I looked up and saw my eyes upon my dream and reality come back, while this confusing dream ended. Or at least I thought it did. The plane was filled with mirrors too. I got restless, I pushed them away and broke them. More kept appearing right in front of me. Then a voice echoed in my ears, "What would you like to drink, sir?" My eyes opened aggressively, and I realized I was still on the plane. Hopefully, we landed soon.