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It Is Just A Tree

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Here I am sitting in the Dallas airport hoping to get to New York to see the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Plaza. But the weather outside is too turbulent for the planes to take off. I have been sitting in the airport for 3 days hoping for my plane to leave and so I can escape the chaos. Although the airport has “commodious waiting areas” but the people are too voluminous for the airport. However the staff brought in caricature painters just to amend the vociferous hordes of people.
My plane now says that it will be taking off in 30 minutes, but I stare at in abhor because the chaos makes it impossible for me to reach my terminal in time. Although I should be delighted that my plane is leaving, I now discern what is relevant and what is not. Therefore I decide that going to New York is irrelevant, and even could put my well-being in jeopardy.
I decide to waive the idea of going, and return to my home. Once home I decide to implicate myself in front of the fire with my family by my side.




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