I watched, listlessly, as the planes took off and landed, their jet streams billowing and slowly dissipating across the sky in the city that never sleeps.
I found it interestingly beautiful, the criss-crossing patterns in every direction momentarily painting the clear blue sky.
It’s fascinating that something as fundamentally ugly as pollution could delight the senses in such an aesthetically pleasing way.
Then I thought that it is not so different from anything else. I’m constantly dressing up the ugly and presenting it as beauty.
The temporary beauty always dissipates leaving behind an invisible trail of pollution, in essence, ruin.