I wrote a blog post the day I got on a plane for the very first time.
You might remember it.
The experience was so mesmerizing that I couldn’t shake the feeling for weeks.

A gigantic machine… flying through the sky.
And it’s being controlled by a human being.

That moment just before takeoff,
when the engines suddenly roar at full speed,
the jolt you feel as the aircraft begins to move,
and the G-force that hits you as you lift off the ground…
They were simply unforgettable sensations.

Let’s not forget the G-force you feel during aerial maneuvers —
it’s like traveling with your soul rather than your body.

Whoever imagined and built these flying machines…
They absolutely deserve a place in heaven.
Because airplanes are nothing short of a miracle.

A few days ago, my vacation ended and I flew again.
And just like that, all those feelings reignited.

Up there, it feels like it’s just you.
The world is below, and you’re free.
You feel freedom in its purest form — down to your core.

When I was little, my biggest dream was to become a pilot.
So every time I look at a plane, I feel a pang of sadness.
It could’ve been me in that cockpit.
I could’ve been the one soaring through the skies again and again.

But I didn’t make it.
I failed.
And maybe that’s my fault.

Still, I won’t say “I wish.”
Because everything I’ve been through has shaped who I am today.

Of course, it’s natural to have regrets about the past.
But would I go back and change anything?
No.
That’s not realistic.

It happened. It’s over.

Now, I look ahead.
I’m dreaming about the future
and doing everything in my power to make those dreams come true.

One day, I hope to roam the skies — freely and without limits.