Being a Passenger

So here I am, sitting in SETAC Airport, just chilling. This is how I roll. But when I’m sitting, I’m watching and observing, like the good passenger I am.  Its kind of amazing to see so many folks, all with their own styles and quirks.

A lady across from me has her leopard colored jacket on, the guy whose sitting next to me and I think reading what I’m writing is in his yachting outfit, I also see a group thats made to wear green sweatshirts, old people and young people all in all. Fair enough, thats cool. Its a group thing, gotta keep everybody together. I love how they all wrap their sweaters around their waste. I dont understand how people can think or completely disregard any sense of style. I guess in a way they do have their own style, who am I to judge as my brother keeps reminding me.

So for now, I continue to appreciate the graces god has given me to roll with a little bit of style, and smirk at the funny people.

On to lighter notes, I was stuck next to a lady who would tell her child to stop it with everything he tried to do, and also blamed him for every unfortunate thing that occurred during the whole flight. “The boy needs to tinkle” “The boy was kicking his sweater below his seat, could you pass it forward” .

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