The hour, the airport

I’m picking up a friend from the airport this morning. It’s always weird to be back at Schiphol. So many (well two) pivotal moments of my life took place here.

And airports generally have this weird atmosphere, a combination of intense emotions and extreme professionalism. Also, almost everyone is a bit muddled and vulnerable on account of either getting on or off a plane, and the ungodly hour. (It’s always ridiculously early somewhere in the world).

Still, I feel surprisingly chipper and awake. I guess it’s always a bit of an adventure, the hour, the airport..

I feel strangely ( and possibly completely groundlessly) mature and competent. It’s moments like these I wish my parents could see me.

(Preferably not by an implanted webcam or anything like that though)


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