I wrote a short story yesterday...
...You know. I thought I would be so much more different. I always saw it from a 3rd person perspective and I always KNEW what the right thing to do was, how it should be worked. But, I never was in the seat myself, actually. See, I had thought I'd known the ins-and-outs just from the experiences of being around this machine myself. I saw how it worked, and I knew what it wanted. I just never tried, because I thought I wasn't built to operate this equipment. That, and I figured nobody would want me as a partner for this, I'm just not reliable enough for it. The other people operating it though, they normally had problems. Usually with problems they end up just letting it break and try mastering it with someone else, after that. Even though, most of the time, I knew what each one of them should do to make the machine get back up on its feet.
But, that changed. Someone wanted to try to work this beast of a machine with me. So this was it. I was in the co-drivers seat, and to be honest it felt like it was on auto-pilot. There was no pressure at all, and everything ran according to plan. My partner knew a majority of the beginning parts so I didn't have to entirely get my feet wet. They literally had to show me how to do some of the required operations to keep it running, because you never actually learn that sort of thing from a 3rd person perspective.
And you know, from the drivers seat, the view is so much more different. When you're silently watching others, you're able to see both of them. Both of what they can see, and themselves respectively. But, when you're in the chair, you only see what's ahead of you, and infront of you, your partner. You can't see yourself. You hardly get a look in the mirror, because for the most part, this machine needs two operators, so you can't leave your seat often to take a look at yourself. Sometimes, it's astonishing to go to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror, because you notice how you've changed since you last got up.
But, after the initial take off, I was elegantly surprised to know nothing went wrong! It made me confident, to know that what I had thought of myself was correct. It was an uplifting experience, to see our machine stride past others' machines who were having difficulties along the road. My partner and I were happy that our machine was working so damn well. I would sometimes happily wave at the troubled pilots as we flew past them, just to irk them.
But then the bumps in the road come. At first, when you buy a new car, and you hit the rough spots on the road... You drive it hard, because you want to test the capabilities of your new vehicle. It's kind of like that with this machine. You ignore the bumps, just to see how it handles without catering to each bump. Nothing ever really happens of them, initially, and that makes you feel good. But, after a while, you start to notice the wear they have on your machine.
After that, you try to pay attention to the road you're on. You try to memorize the bumpy spots so that you can swerve out of the way to avoid them. And that's only natural, why cause more damage than is necessary? Right? Nobody needs bumps in the road, but they're there. So we deal with it.
This is where my inexperience as a pilot comes in. I've never had any bumps to worry about before I climbed in the co-driver's seat. I've never dealt with these minor annoyances before. Naturally, I don't know how to react to them. Turns out the first person perspective in driving this machine is a lot different than I imagined. I find myself fumbling with the controls, in spots where before, I would know exactly what the drivers should do, which levers they should pull and so forth.
But the suddenness of it all, and the knowing that you're the one in control, so if you mess up, it's your fault. You can't just suggest something in your mind, and if it goes wrong, nobody knows you suggested the wrong idea, and nobody ever cares. It's not like that here. You have to decide on the spot what you think is the right choice, and hope to God your partner is on the right mind-set as you, because the controls are shared... What I do, has an effect on what she does, and vice versa. You're not allotted the extra time from the 3rd person perspective to think. When you're caught up in the moment, you're more worried about what's going on then thinking about it.
What makes matters worse, is that I truly don't know what I'm doing when it comes to these bumps. Like I've said, I thought I knew how to handle them, but in all reality, I don't. I've never felt the pressures and insecurities of this single seat before. I thought it'd be a breeze, but after a while, you realize that your partner and you may not agree with what you have in mind. Which is fine, absolutely, nobody should be right all of the time, especially when they're so inexperienced.
But what if the inexperienced pilot has a more natural keen sense of these bumps than the experienced pilot? Or so he believes? He tries to make the adjustments to avoid the bumps, but the co-pilot doesn't believe the adjustments are necessary and are just a selfish waste of time. Who knows if they really are or not? Of course, a 3rd person would... But, when you're in the machine yourself, you're like in a soundproof box. People can see what you're doing wrong, but they're not really able to help you. Sometimes, if they deem it necessary, they'll paint what you should do on a billboard and throw it in front of you... But that's about all they can do. It takes a lot of effort to paint a sign that big, so sometimes they realize that it's something the pilots themselves should fix, or else they know it wasn't meant for them to drive.
So here I am. Right now I'm on a short bathroom break. I'm taking a look in the mirror, and what do I see? A weary pilot who's lost all confidence and self-esteem. He's starting to wonder if he's the best candidate for a pilot, all of his inexperience is getting the best of him and making him look like a complete fool. His right-winged ideas are starting to get the best of him, and making him think he knows what's right. But the thing is, when I look in the mirror now, all that I see is wrong. Just wrong.
I just got done having a quarrel with my co-pilot on another one of those bumps. I thought I saw a bump coming, so I wanted to avoid it. But, sadly enough, I was wrong. My sense of bumps apparently has diminished into nothing more than a foolish thought pattern. So, as I wash my face and stare straight into my eyes, I begin to look for answers. It's really hard to do that in something that you believe is strictly wrong...
I'm too inexperienced. I'm too selfish. I'm too right-winged. But, I am trying. I'm trying really hard to work with this machine, and the co-pilot. I want to be able to see the checkered flag of success. I want to see the sun on the horizon and know I've made it to the place I belong. I want the uplifting feeling I had when this endeavor first started... I yearn for it. I want the co-pilot to feel the same feeling as me. Right now, that's the only thing that matters to me...
So, as I finish writing this little passage in my diary, I'd like to make a mention of my co-pilot. My co-pilot is brilliant, and everything that a co-pilot should be, even more than that, actually. They pull my weight more than half of the time, when it comes to driving this machine. I know I appreciate all that they're doing, and I hope that they don't give up on my selfish inexperienced ways. I'll keep trying. Ill keep trying, because I'm trying to strive for excellence...