haha. i got pwned by weather, GUANO, and more weather today. what an exciting day.

When stuff like these happens, I always start wondering whether its all worth it. Its not that I find it a chore; I love it. But the inconveniences are starting to pile up. Nevermind, I need it for my cas anyway.

But at the end of the day, whenever the 160 horses under the cowling sends the little bird thundering down the runway and the force of C_L½pV²S* tears me from gravity's hold, any semblance of doubt would disappear, and it is then, when I know I'm home.

When this life I'm in is done,
And at the gates I stand,
My hope is that I answer all
His questions on command.

I doubt He'll ask me of my fame,
Or all the things I knew, Instead,
He'll ask of rainbows sent
On rainy days I flew.

The hours logged, the status reached,
The ratings will not matter.
He'll ask me if I saw the rays
And how He made them scatter.

Or what about the droplets clear,
I spread across your screen?
And did you see the twinkling eyes.
Of student pilots keen?

The way your heart jumped in your chest,
That special solo day-
Did you take time to thank the one
Who fell along the way?

Remember how the runway lights
Looked one night long ago
When you were lost and found your way,
And how-you still dont know?

How fast, how far, how much, how high?
He'll ask me not these things
But did I take the time to watch
The Moonbeams wash my wings?

And did you see the patchwork fields
And moutains I did mould;
The mirrored lakes and velvet hills,
Of these did I behold?

The wind he flung along my wings,
On final almost stalled.
And did I know I it was His name,
That I so fearfully called?

And when the goals are reached at last,
When all the flyings done,
I'll answer Him with no regret-
Indeed, I had some fun.

So when these things are asked of me,
And I can reach no higher,
My prayer this day - His hand extends
To welcome home a Flyer.

— Patrick J. Phillips

*for the purists, p should be rho. but rho doesn't show. lousy rho

doing TOK essays at unearthly hours is akin to taking a cocktail of psychedelic drugs. All these hazy concepts and -isms about reality, truth, perception and knowledge, and faint shimmers of brilliant thoughts which disappear as soon as you decide to start typing, all overshadowed by the dominant thought that flashes at you periodically, increasing in frequency as time passes, "I WANT TO SLEEP"

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

- Matthew 6:25-33

Yep. What I should keep in mind for the rest of this year. School's starting. Let's roll.