Å være sammen er å være tilstrekkelig langt borte fra alt annet.
Gunnar Ardelius (2006) Jag behöver dig mer än jag älskar dig och jag älskar dig så himla mycket

Første gangen jeg hørte denne sangen, lo jeg faktisk høyt. Det er riktignok ikke en original Beatlessang, men jeg bare elsker stemmen til Ringo.

The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy has this to say on the subject of flying

There is an art, it says, or rather, a knack to flying.
The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and
miss.
Pick a nice day, it suggests, and try it.
The first part is easy.
All it requires is simply the ability to throw yourself forward with
all your weight, and the willingness not to mind that it's going to hurt.
That is, it's going to hurt if you fail to miss the ground.
Most people fail to miss the ground, and if they are really trying
properly, the likelihood is that they will fail to miss it fairly hard.
Clearly, it is this second part, the missing, which presents the
difficulties.
One problem is that you have to miss the ground accidentally. It's no
good to deliberately intend to miss the ground because you won't. You
have to have your attention suddenly distracted by something else when
you're halfway there, so that you are no longer thinking about falling, or
about the ground, or about how much it's going to hurt if you fail to miss
it.
It is notoriously difficult to prise your attention away from these
three things during the split second you have at your disposal. Hence most
people's failure, and their eventual disillusionment with this exhilarating
and spectacular sport.
If, however, you are lucky enough to have your attention momentarily
distracted at the crucial moment by, say, a gorgeous pair of legs (tentacles,
pseudopodia, according to phyllum and/or personal inclination) or a bomb
going off in your vicinity, or by suddenly spotting an extremely rare species
of beetle crawling along a nearby twig, then in your astonishment you will
miss the ground completely and remain bobbing just a few inches above it in
what might seem to be a slightly foolish manner.
This is a moment for superb and delicate concentration.
Bob and float, float and bob.
Ignore all consideration of your own weight and simply let yourself
waft higher.
Do not listen to what anybody says to you at this point because they are
unlikely to say anything helpful.
They are most likely to say something along the lines of, "Good Heavens,
you can't possibly be flying!"
It is vitally important not to believe them or they will suddenly be right.
Waft higher and higher.
Try a few swoops, gentle ones at first, then drift above the treetops
breathing regularly.
DO NOT WAVE AT ANYBODY.
When you have done this a few times you will find the moment of
distraction rapidly becomes easier and easier to achieve.
You will then learn all sorts of things about how to control your flight,
your speed, your manoeuvrability, and the trick usually lies in not thinking
too hard about whatever you want to do, but just allowing it to happen as if
it was going to anyway.
You will also learn about how to land properly, which is something you
will almost certainly cock up, and cock up badly, on your first attempt.
There are private flying clubs you can join which help you achieve the
all-important moment of distraction. They hire people with suprising bodies
or opinions to leap out from behind bushes and exhibit and/or explain them
at the critical moments. Few genuine hitch-hikers will be able to afford to
join these clubs, but some may be able to get temporary employment at them.

Emberwaves på deviantart

Eller Cave på bua.







Her finner du henne.