Once I Wondered

Once I wondered how planes fly. Watching them depart and arrive, take off, and land with such ease and grace like it was nothing was my favorite activity as a kid. That’s how I learned I wanted to be a pilot. We traveled a lot by plane, overseas, to visit family and friends. I remember sometimes my parents would take me on “business joy rides” – that’s what they used to call them. I’ve never seen people so happy about their jobs as my parents. I hoped I could also feel like that about my future occupation.

Once I wondered where people go when they die. I always used to get weird looks when I asked such a question maybe because people don’t like to talk about death. Or maybe just because it is something no one knows. Where do people go when they die? Heaven or Hell? Do they get thrown into a massive void box and left to rot forgotten? Do their souls still roam the Earth after their bodies give up on living? Do they remember who they were before or what they are at the very moment, or do they lose self-awareness completely and just continue existing in nothingness?

Once I wondered what happiness is. Does it come from seeing others be happy? Perhaps it’s some type of unknown parasite, that glues itself to people under different circumstances – a smile, a hug, a laugh. But can it come from seeing others be not so happy? Seeing someone fail and fall from those expectations they have set for themselves or others? Maybe someone disappointed them or they disappointed themselves; can that bring happiness? Sometimes, that pain someone feels brings joy to someone else. Seeing one fail gives another the chance to succeed. After all, we’ve always been taught that success is something to kill for.

Once I wondered what life is. What is life? Is it a he, or a she? A what or a when? Maybe it’s a how. How we live matters, not what or when, and maybe it’s neither he or she because anybody can live that life. I think people often overcomplicate things. I do too. Maybe it’s in our blood to mess stuff up. We can’t live without some action every once in a while, a rumor or a lie. A theft or a murder. These are all bad things, but they offer twice the thrill some good deeds would. What is life, after all? Something everybody wants but everybody despises, it just depends on the moment you’re asking.

Once I wondered how people find their meaning. Their “calling,” I believe everybody chooses to refer to it as. That one thing that latches onto you and refuses to let go, so you have to learn to live with it. You try to build a life around it; some people die trying. Fate isn’t nice to everybody. Have as many people as can be to believe in the impossible and then divide them into groups. A, B, and C are it. Group A will excel in whatever they want to accomplish, they will make a great name for themselves and they will reach new heights no one has ever reached before. Group B will have their ups and downs but they will make it. They will reach those heights many people have reached before and they will settle. Some people like to settle and be ordinary and there is nothing wrong with that. Many people are disgusted by the idea of being so ordinary that you blend in with the scenery but maybe that’s what some people seek; not catching any attention because they don’t know what to do with it once they get it. Group C will try but only that, and maybe not even that. They will try, give up, try and give up some more and they will never lift themselves off the ground. Most think Fate has something in mind for those people but I think it’s the opposite. On the contrary, I think Fate never thought about those people, it forgot they even existed. Or maybe they were an unforeseen side effect of another experiment, and Fate just let them roam around, and find their own. So they try, and they try a lot, from a lot of places and in a lot of ways, but they always fail. Either that or success isn’t long-term. As I said, Fate isn’t nice to everybody. Maybe it’s out of boredom that it often finds new puppets to play with. It's needless to say that people from group A live the most, at maximum intensity, but they also live the shortest. Perhaps achieving so much cuts down your expectancy to a certain extent; you gain something by losing something else. Group B will be the perfect average, they will stay on Earth as much as they are supposed to, and they won’t depart either too early or too late. Group C will live the longest, which is ironic considering their situation. I think Fate is some kind of a psychotic pessimist who only thinks and does the worst evil – it merges with your soul, finds out your greatest desires, and then rips into them, deserting your every possibility of ever making them happen. I wonder what group I will end up being in.

Once I wondered why we keep track of Time. Time is such a weird companion to have, so I don’t know why people rely on him and want him on their side so badly. Time works solo and doesn’t take sides. Well, maybe sometimes he does, like in those cases of “god-sent miracles”. Once in a while, Time sees injustice being made and something strikes the chord of change in him. That’s how some people overcome “one in a million” types of scenarios. But there are also times when he does nothing but stand back and watch whatever is about to happen happen. Time is only going to be on your side for a short amount of time before he changes his mind and stabs you in the back. Time is tricky. If he wants to spiral the clock forward, he will do so. If he wants to send it backward, he will do so. If you are fortunate enough for him to choose whatever works for you, it’s a “one in a million” type of scenario. Trust me, it won’t happen again; for most of us, at least.

Once I wondered if time travel will ever be possible. I’ve always wanted to travel through the years like you do through a city. We all have memories so happy and pure that we’d wish to be stuck in a time loop and relive only those special times. We all also have memories so unwanted and dark, crippling away at our brains, that we wish we could just toss them outside of our existence and live our lives without ever having to acknowledge them again. We already do so, but it would be much easier if they were completely gone, not just forgotten. Forgetting is like taking the matter and covering it up with a transparent sheet – you know the matter is still there but you try to convince yourself it disappeared.

Once I wondered why we are called humans. Why are we called humans? What is humanity? I once thought it was supposed to be a great ideal, a greater reason for the better. But humans often resort to questionable manners to achieve their great ideals, and that is their reason for the better. But not all are humane. Most aren’t. Humanity, in its original form, is dead. I think the new word for it is “hypocrisy”.

Once I wondered what dreams are. People say a dream reflects something that hasn’t happened yet or will never happen, but in a familiar scenery, around people you’ve met before. Maybe it’s a way for the brain to reflect on certain actions, the “what-ifs”. What if…I always wondered what would have happened in the what-if of every situation I’ve come across in this life. It’s a fun, odd, and terrifying question because you don’t always know what could’ve happened and that’s when the brain starts playing its tricks. The dreams are those tricks.

Once I wondered how many beats my heart has left. Nobody knows how many beats they have left. Perhaps not even their hearts do. Maybe they patiently await their death, their final stop, just like the rest of us. Everyone knows it will happen, just not when. It can be called “the ultimate element of surprise.”

What are we? Humans aren’t after all too different from the animals they have evolved from. Did she ever love you? Did he ever love me? Do human beings gravitate more towards evil or good? Does any part of us exist forever? Is there an absolute truth? What are you?

Tired. I am tired.

Once I wondered how planes fly. It used to be one of my biggest questions when I was a child. It still is one of my biggest questions, although now I know the answer. But I still don’t understand how planes fly. That’s why I once wanted to become a pilot; maybe then I would learn how to fly.

But I never did either. I was too tired.