My rides on planes increased ever since I started studying abroad. Unexpectedly, I am not good with planes, nor do I favour the time spent in them.
There’s something very strange and unique about being in a metal lump, suspended in the sky. There's something even more ironic about having the heaviest thoughts flood your mind, as you are surrounded by the aluminium walls of a vehicle in the clouds. In this space, hours can feel long yet short, thoughts can range through the spectrum of intense and banal.
And with the abrupt intercom transmission, ladies and gentlemen, we have landed, your thoughts ground too with gravity.
The ground, air, humidity, sounds, light should all be something of familiarity. The body absorbs all these information, understanding that it is being offered affection from the land of which it has threaded before. However, the mind projects memories of previous lands, and dissonance occurs. This peculiar and fleeting sensation of discordance recalls over and over as I transverse between places, as if disregarding my respective fondness for each of them.
日本に留学して以来、飛行機に乗る機会が増えた。その重い機体を空に浮かべ私を運ぶ。
小さな窓から流れる雲を眺める。それまでに経験した喜び、憂い、焦燥、羨ましさ、自分の気持ちを追っている内に着陸する。
その場の空気、湿気、人々、景色、音、匂いなどの様々な情報は体の感覚で消化できるが、精神的な意識はなんとなく追いつけない。
懐かしく感じる一方で切なく感じる。
過去の思い出と感覚が目の前の景色と重なった時に違和が生じる。
