It's funny what airplanes can do to me.

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.