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writing of the moment
Contagious Disillusionment.
by: Mandy Kellog
The world is slowly getting smaller and beginning to disappear. I've had dreams like this. The sun still beams, kissing my folded hands and curious face. Is there a more peaceful feeling than this? Being so far above the world you've known that it can no longer reach you. My problems, like the buildings below, seem to diminish until they no longer exist at all. When my eyes open next there is nothing in sight but clouds. A floor of clouds below, and a ceiling of clouds above. My heart longs to freeze the moment and not drift back down to that tragic place below. Up here I can't see a war in Iraq. I see no children starving or women being raped. No world poverty but I can almost see world peace. No selfish president robbing his country and bombing the others. No broken hearts, granted I left a lot of people back home. No fallen soldiers and grieving families. No murders and no hurricanes. I take a deep breath and try to take it all in at once. Shades of blue and white surround me and get brighter as we go. I feel lost and it feels great.
Finally, a deep voice breaks through my jumbled thoughts, mentioning something about landing in twenty. My heart sinks. Guess I better enjoy it while I can. Almost time to head back down there where things are a little more real. The thing is, though I can't see any of these things with my head in these clouds, I still know deep down that they exist. This is just a temporary escape. One that I wouldn't mind staying in a bit longer. A lot of people, who I will be greeting momentarily, see these things almost every day and somehow still don't believe they're real. They act as if they live hiding somewhere within these big white clouds. What does it take to get people to open their eyes? If an unnecessary war in Iraq and a tragic hurricane can't gather a sense of humanity among enough to pull together and do something, what can?
We cut and slice through those clouds like they never existed. They don't move out of the way, they disappear. Were they a mere illusion? Was I just imagining all of it? I hope not. Is this world I'm now returning to all an illusion? A big part of me wishes it was. The plane touches down, the door opens and I'm flooded with a loud rush of people. I hustle outside and I look to the sky and feel that same sun. I smile back at it and keep walking as the clouds float on.
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