Note to Reader

Dear Reader,

From specks of nothing, from untapped potential, from absolute oblivion, we rise. We yearn

to expand beyond familiar horizons and become bigger than we actually are. Just as Charles

Lindbergh and Amelia Earhart once did, we forge new boundaries through our explorations.

We become infatuated with the twilight zone – the discrepancies between our own imagina-

tions, our own limits – elevating us into the realm of human wonder. Some of us craft our

own wings, and some of us command the wind to work in our favor, letting the ecstasy of

flight affect our judgement. Once we go up, we refuse to come down.

Like Peter Pan, our spirits keep us high, faces towards the sun as we fly towards our own

Neverlands. In our Great Glass Elevator, nothing can harm us; we’re mere spectators of

the world below. Everything looks perfect from far away. While wrapped up in the bliss of

flight, we forget that we are just mere children. We ascend and reach for the sun, believing

ourselves to be invincible against the elements. We disguise ourselves as gods, attempting

to grasp the universe in our hands under the impression that it is scarcely bigger than our-

selves. But the thinning oxygen makes us power-hungry. Our ill intentions get the best of us.

Our wings become weapons and our aspirations become fears. We bomb the cities below

us to attain “peace.” We fly too close to the sun, and when we try to grab it, our wings get

burned.

And then we begin the descent. Tumbling towards the ground, still reaching for the great

mystery that we had once admired. Pure intentions with a cruel execution, Icarus tried de-

fying the laws of gravity and fell to his death. That’s how we attempted to rise, but what if

we didn’t need to defy gravity? What if we worked hand in hand with it, just as the Wright

brothers once did? What we ignored throughout history was the theory of relativity: what

goes up must come down.

We no longer depend on the wind because the wind will knock us down. Instead, we manip-

ulate it. We are not gods meddling with forces beyond our control, and we may not be able

to truly fly, but we can fall,

and fall,

and fall;

however, what truly matters is whether or not we choose to rise again.

Sincerely,

The Eclectic Staff