Another pass over the bigger city to the south makes me wonder about all the absence in the night; the pitch-blackest part that the eye can’t see. And to the north, there lies nothing but the ruins of the old world I did know, and what little life still springs up from the memories- seeds planted with people, fostered and green-housed up to the sky to once again, maybe, rejoin me along the path I’ve beaten out of the forest in front of me. Flight becomes nothing more than passing the time. It’s about the view. The hums of the engines lack their potency they possessed when I was younger. And when I write younger, note that I recall when I was eight, and that the young that I am now bears its weight down on me as old. And my eyes grow sharper, but soon will dull. Seconds beat with their peak and decline. Like I said, it’s about the view. And reflecting upon a psychological frame that I construct again and again, the view supports the platform for introspect and personal understanding. Soul-searching in the air; might as well fly with the birds, and the clouds to see the head I have stuck in them. And you wonder if there are others doing the same- the same thoughts and the same mechanics the brain runs through, in its clockwork mannerisms and autonomous fashion. Do we possess control over it? I don’t know if I’m the only one waltzing around with all this on a conscious level- among others, of course, who possess a level of self-awareness, or are we all on the dance-floor, stomping around, swinging to and fro. But now the city to the south vanishes from my sight, and only two or three firefly streetlights appear, all the while a beacon signal of red illuminates the wing to remind me of where I am: In the sky. This makes me think strong about the small lights rather than the never-ending abyss. About the smaller things, like those who matter, and what I hold dear to me, I revel. And I roll around in the thoughts of importance and necessity. And these lights fade too. And these lights move on to other stronger beams of orange. Ocean liners on ocean waters. Void fuller empty absence persistence bloom develop fade fuller void awake. And there’s a city even farther to the south. A much smaller vessel but nonetheless present, noticeable in the… and you turn your head for a second, and they vanish. You never know what you’ll miss when you’re thinking about nothing. I watched a lecture on boredom, and she said it might be good for you, and I might as well agree, because in my time of un-aroused states of mind I’ve noticed what swims in the deep dark, happens to be brighter than what we see in the daylight. You see, the further you search, the farther you go down, the brighter these sea-beasts pop up. Forgive the nautical analogy, but you can see quite amazing and ingenious, self-radiating beings when you go a mile or two down. At the same time, a plethora of beautiful fish inhabit the rays of sun, and some truly shine best in the light, but those which provide their own way to illuminate the world they inhabit. But I digress on flounders and anglers.