sky writing

December 17, 2009 at 5:51 pm (Streams of Consciousness) (, , )

My plane swims through this thin, wonderful liquid we call air. I feel like I am on a submarine exploring the deep, the cirrus clouds below me look like floating seaweed trailing gossamer tendrils in the invisible current that is wind. I want to swim. I want to exit my submarine and plunge on a scuba expedition to the dark recesses of this ocean floor. Perhaps a civilization has sprung up down there; it’s hard to see, the air moves and dances and distorts the vision. I can make out the outlines of undersea mountains, so high, so inaccessible from the depth we cruise at. I want to leap out and sink down and join this mythical Atlantean civilization, learn their customs and explore their world. I envision stepping out and allowing the current to rip me out, I use an emergency exit to avoid the propellers, to avoid a terrible way to begin an adventure. I could breathe this light liquid, I am sure I could. My weight would pull me downward, suddenly, heartstoppingly, towards the floor of this expansive ocean, tearing the parting words that I had no use for, from my quiet lips. I would slip through the seemingly solid clouds effortlessly, but I would feel refreshed, like I had just stepped into a cold shower. The air would be cold at this depth and warmer as I sank, I would be chilled after slipping through the cloud, but the sun would be soft on my face. Would sinking that quickly hurt me? I know you can get the bends from rising from the depths too quickly but I wonder if the rate of my dive would hurt me in the same way. I can imagine nearing the bottom and seeing wonders that few hoped to see, surveying this undersea world from above. I bet it’s beautiful.

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