2012-04-14 - 9:15 a.m.
Well, you know, I seem to always be looking for ways to fly. Tonight, at 9:20, I'll get on an actual jet plane and that jet plane will actually fly me across the Atlantic and deposit me in a brown, cultured place. And I bike to fly. And I fly when I'm with the people I love, and, last night, when I wrote eight pages without looking at my email, without looking at the clock, noticing only the ache in my back from sitting at that strange angle, I was flying.
Love the one you're with, the song says, and carpe diem, and all of that, and I think that all of it is true, because what all of that wisdom is really saying is this: you're already flying, son.
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