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Just Flying Over

Driving back, through the vast open corn fields that Nebraska is known for, I saw a plane.

More times than I can count, I've found myself gazing into the sky looking at planes passing flying over. On quite a few instances, I'll look at the plane and come to the realization that the people in the plane, every single one, has their own life and their own story. They might be looking down, thinking the same thing about the cars driving below, and the people walking down the sidewalk. You can't really see them, yet you know that they have their own life with intricacies as elaborate as your own.

I was visiting my mom in Kansas. She took a job at a military installation and was given a decent monetary compensation to relocate to the Midwest. However it's a personal goal of mine to visit all 50 states, and with more than 35 down, I always look forward to seeing my mom, and exploring the states that most people simply fly over. We took a trip to Nebraska while I was there. Most would find a trip to Nebraska one of the less desirable getaways in the country. But my mom and I stepped into the idea with open arms and open minds. We took a drive through country roads, two lane highways, small towns and even the capitol city of Lincoln.

I met some of the most friendly people, I ate a delicious 100% Omaha steak at a local spot, I got a Nebraskan corn tattoo as a "corny" souvenir and really embraced the energy of the state. It's crazy though. Driving back, through the vast open fields that Nebraska is known for, I saw a plane. I thought about the people in it. Looking down through clear skies, sipping diet cola, perturbed that only about half the can is actually in the cup. I wondered about their lives. I wondered where they were from and where they were headed. I wondered if they were flying reluctantly to a distant relatives funeral or happily on a trip to reunite with a loved one. The thought was quick and I continued driving southbound, to my mothers home in a quaint central Kansas town.

However as I write this, I sit through the noise and commotion in O'Hare International Airport for my 2 hour layover. I'm flying home today from my trip to Kansas and looked down during my flight. I saw cars and people in parking lots. Farmers working their fields through the heat and big buildings with corporate schmucks bustling about. I saw people below and pondered. Do they look up at me and ask the questions I ask? Do they realize my girlfriend dumped me 3 weeks ago? Do they know that I'm facing homelessness when I land at my final destination? Do they know I'm being accused of something I am innocent of and that my entire career is in jeopardy? Do they wonder how my life really is in it's entirety? Or maybe they just look up at me and assume I'm drinking a diet cola dreading the fact I didn't even get the whole can.

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