Something’s changing. Something always is.
Today I looked out of the window of our plane and realized one very obvious fact: we were so high up. Know this: I have been riding planes since I was, what, five? I know that I have a very slight fear of heights, but I’ve never been afraid of heights when inside a plane.
Today I was afraid. The hand-sweating, feet-tingling kind of fear. A fear of lost control. And I guess that’s what’s been happening. That pretty much sums up what’s going on with me the past few days.
I’m sad. And that’s an understatement. And while I’m writing this in a plane headed somewhere I thought I could escape, I am fighting back the tears that threaten to embarass me in front of a box full of people. Gosh darn it I’m sad, I tell you.
The thing is, people are always sad. Somehow. Deep inside. But we don’t see that. We see rebellion. We see pride and self-importance. We see someone fighting the norms of society. We don’t see someone fighting to keep control of the life that once seemed in order.
So that’s it. Things are changing. Things are always changing, spinning in and out of control. There is no way to control things. There is no way to stay the same. There is no way to fight the fear.
One can only hope.
You’re always you, and that don’t change, and you’re always changing, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
(Mother Slaughter, The Graveyard Book)
Let the Girl Talk 