Sometimes, I feel special, and the Internets are always there to slap me in the face and remind me that with all the other people crawling on the surface of the earth, my thoughts are never that original…

But still… I do suffer from what I call the “migrating bird” syndrome.

I have been for years and years… Every time a plane flies over my head, I can’t repress looking up, making eye contact, wondering where all those people are going, and hoping I could teleport in the plane, no matter where it is heading.

Every time. And, living in Montréal, you can just try to imagine the time spent my nose up in the air, making me look like a retard mentally challenged person.

Tomorrow, it will be even worse… A dear friend of mine will fly his way across North America, from East to West.

His plane will not fly over Montréal per say, but will spend a good deal of time over Québec, and knowing myself, I’ll probably feel a mix of nostalgia and comforting thought that he is there, somewhere. I could drive to go stand in the path of that plane, but I doubt he would spot me, even if I was all dressed in bright red…

And it would just make the itch to be on a plane greater than it already is, with anonymous planes…

I hope you’ll strech to peek at Québec through the window… Maybe even hoping for a moment you could teleport down. But you’re better off in your plane, it is going to be a hell of a trip…

Bon voyage!