I’m sitting in Heathrow as I get ready to return to the US and move on to whatever comes next. I know, I know… I have 4 hours waiting time before I have to board the sardine can for the 10 hour flight home.
I’ve always loved airports. There is a sense of impermanence and transition. Everyone in here is leaving a place, is in a place and is going to a place. They are not of the place they left, they are not of the place they are in, and they are yet to become of the place they travel to.
There are thousand of ephemeral moments that happen once and are gone. The people, the smells, even the screaming brats are exclusive of the moment. We take refuge in the familiar or we go our of our way to take risks and push for the unknown.
And then we arrive and act as if nothing had changed. Or maybe everything did
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