I love flying…
Ever since I can remember, I’ve always loved flying…
I love that sensation of soaring above the world…
As a kid, I dreamt of growing up to become a pilot, and if not for the fact that I have a combination of short-sightedness and astigmatism, I’d certainly have ended up as one. (Thank you family for passing me your screwed up genes!)
Anyway, I’ve always loved air travel, sometimes even more than actually going to other places, especially when I already know the place I’m visiting.
I’ve never panicked on a plane or thought dark thoughts about it crashing or anything, in fact I’m totally convinced planes are the safest way to travel. Period. (Hmm, maybe trains are the only things safer.)
And I guess the crap they tell us at the beginning of the flight, and that was engraved in my memory from my early childhood, somehow makes me unconsciencly sure everything is cool and under control.
These days though, every couple of days, we hear about a new plane falling out of the sky, and people get scared out of their heads from ever flying again.
A plane crash is a tragedy by all means and it’s scary as hell.
I can only try to imagine how the people who lost their loved ones in plane crashes feel, and would get nowhere close to imagining how people who went through a plane crash themselves felt.
Personally, I do get afraid of flying for a split second, but then I remember that every time I get on a plane, I know the risk exists, and that I do it anyways.
Just like going out of your home in the morning is a risk, driving your car is a risk, eating something is a risk…etc.
I guess life is but a series of calculated risks; We only do what is within our acceptable risk range.
I’ll never give up flying…
I love the feeling too much…