I know why I love airplanes
as the presentation on journalism passes between my ears
and I think more about the process of applying stickers to my water bottle than critiquing the rule of the watchdog
I realize that airplanes are where one has to run into strangers
they are our contemporary public house
a closed container of people watching and happenstance encounters
I am stuck
what will consume my thesis research and writing?
flying presents another type of stuck, one with equal and unlimited potential
even with a closed mouth my ears and eyes are busy
hold that in your mind
my head floats in and out of class
strangers float in an out of our existence
everyone is a presentation of alternative realities and various  contexts
what tells us more: words or people?
sometimes actions are silent
constituting meaning
silence speaks, if you’re listening

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