It’s about a minute
ago when I heard an airplane pass by.
I can hardly contain my thoughts. I sense memory overload.
Several memories have flashed back. Few belong to the past and the majority,
the product of my creative thinking. Me in Saudi Arabia and the airports of
Kuwait and Thailand are tinges from the past. Me garbed lavishly alighting from
a US and UK taxi respectively are thoughts woven by my limitless imagination. I
can’t help to wonder if many people think like I do. Or should I question do
they “over” think like I do. I think a lot. It encompasses reflections,
observations, reveries, and nevertheless, dreams of impossibilities. I would
like to call such dreams as inconceivable because I think they are the least to
happen on me.
Love, wealth, fame—I am
one of those who revere of these.
On second thought they aren’t really vital and I can do away
without them. On third thought they won’t be so bad to acquire. For the fourth
time I thought, but they are a world away from me and then I am reminded of the
word impossible (through the will of God though, everything is possible). Believe it or not, I do have fifth thoughts--Oh why can’t they
be--be mine asap. Oh sure I over think. I hate over thinking. At times, I don’t.
Seldom, I am just so undecided on what to do. Then I hear another plane pass
by. An airplane just drove my mind crazy, I thought. It’s funny how a plane can
blow my brains off, I thought again. I remember my airport experiences, oh sweet
moments. So precious, I thought. Again. Oh no. I do over think.
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