The "joys" of flying

I simply hate flying. It is tiring, frustrating, and time-wasting. Although I may have adored every moment of staring at the clouds through the cabin windows as a kid, the shocking reality of adult flying responsibilities have ignited within me a strong dislike for flying. I glower with impatience at having to comply with the discriminating check-in baggage limitations. I tire at having to wait long lines or having to battle inefficient computers just to check-in. I am sick of having to spend hours at the departure gates just waiting to enter an airplane. I am disgusted by inconsiderate passengers who push and fight their way to their seats. I am frustrated at how long international flights take and how taxing they are.

However, it is not these little peculiarities and regulations of flying that really overwhelm me. Ultimately, it's the sad goodbyes, the sinking feelings, the fighting emotions that make me detest flying at the heart of my soul. It's having to part with a life of blissful contentment, familiarity, and joy. It's having to convince yourself about the so-called “bright future” and “exciting times” arguments.

Yes, I know that by all reasoning and logic, it is the best road to take. But since when were humans logical beings? We were given feelings and emotions unquantifiable and unexplainable by science. Despite many centuries of knowledge accumulation, we still cannot convincingly persuade ourselves that emotions can be logically understood.

I've often said that my dream was to soar through the clouds, much like Peter Pan did in his marvelous adventures. Reality sucks, doesn't it?