A few posts back I questioned where time goes.
I was referring not to the passage of time, but rather to the physical destination where moments go once they become a yesterday.
Is there some sort of celestial repository where time is stored once it has passed, I pondered.
Today, as I cling to my seat on a turbulent flight, I wonder where our thoughts go.
Not just any thoughts.
The deep ones.
The one’s rarely echoed aloud.
Is there some sort of depository for lingering thoughts too?
In the seat next to me is a girl holding rosary beads and reading a Bible.
I sense that somehow her thoughts – whatever they may be – are keeping me safe.
Maybe our thoughts – whether verbalized or not – end up in the very same place as time.
289 blog posts down – 76 left to go…