The plane was delayed today

I’m terrified of love songs
Today, the weather is a love letter.
And though I see clouds shaped like dreams and stars shaped like drops of gold, I could swear they were blood before they were a boon.
I think it’s a bit strange how we keep unraveling the strings of those we love till they’re bare and begging for warmth, while we ourselves keep swallowing cotton threads with the hope to feel full.
I can’t help the people I love, I can’t help my dog and I cannot help myself.
The curse of humanity? Perhaps.
But isn’t it because of that curse that we scrounge for the beauty in the merest of things.
Nowadays I see buildings and the designs on their corners and I think of the hands that put them there.
I think of their religion, caste, orientation and what might have befallen them simply because they existed.
If they knew that someone someday would think of them because of the art they created.
I sit on a plane and think of the scientific rules which govern aerodynamics and the frequency at which the minds of those must have traveled to unravel such secrets.
Maybe it is humanity, maybe it’s the lack of it. Look at the art. Look at the monuments. Look at the structure. Look at the atrocities. We destroy the art and we grieve the artists while we sip to the dawn of a new age.
It’s been years now that I’ve been viewing the world as a floating wisp of breath. I see myself and I am disgusted. I see a man smiling and talking to a street dog and I feel like the world is worth everything after all. I see the wars, the inhuman reliance on borderline psychotic principles based on when, how and where they were born and I crumble to dust again.
I look at bombs and the science behind it, I look at medicines and the urge to save life and the tears and death of loved ones behind it. Yet I still cannot see myself.
I look at the stars again, or at least I try to do so through the smoke. I think of the sea and the ocean and the mountains and the trees.
I think about my aims and passions and what I love, and if I love. I think about how it all boils down to wanting to buy a house beside the beach with sunsets everyday and I curse myself for wanting something when millions out there do not even have the advantage to dream about the sea.
Everything feels lost and hopeful all at once.
Humanity looks up at the moon hoping for answers when the moon itself is full of questions unknown.