tonight i did something i have been wanting to do for years now. i finally went down to the marina near the airport and watched the planes land. wondering what the people were thinking as their plane was about 40 seconds from touching down in Washington DC. was anyone visiting the city for the first time? anyone running away from home? anyone meeting up with friends they haven't seen in years? so many lives in the planes above me and i doubt i knew a single one. it's strange how lives pass by or (or fly by) and they all have their own direction, their own connections, their own sadness or happiness or loneliness or fulfillment and so on. so many lives right next to us every day, every second and we rarely connect with them. (we barely really connect with the people we consider "friends") perhaps we do for a split second as we accidentally lock eyes on the subway or on the sidewalk. but never really, truly connect. why? there could be someone on that plane that has the same sense of humor as i do, or likes cooking as much as i do or takes a shine to the many tings i like and am interested in, but i'll never know. perhaps one day i'll randomly talk with a stranger and mention that one night i went to watch the planes land. maybe we'll realize that while i was on the ground looking up, they were in the plane looking down.