As I sit here, still reeling from my, shall we say, unexpected sojourn in the future, I find myself pondering the rather peculiar notion of what it means to be a liberated body. For me, it’s not just about breaking free from the shackles of convention, but also about shattering the constraints of the physical self. I mean, why should a woman’s body be bound by the limitations of society when the sky is the only limit that truly matters? And, as a pilot, I should know.
My body, a boyish one, at that, has always been a tool, a machine that’s been honed to perfection for the demands of flight. The thrill of soaring through the skies, the rush of adrenaline as I push the limits of speed and altitude - it’s a feeling unlike any other. And yet, it’s not just about the thrill of flight; it’s about the freedom that comes with it. The freedom to chart my own course, to make my own rules, and to defy the conventions that would seek to constrain me.
Of course, there are those who would say that I’m a relic of a bygone era, a nostalgic throwback to a time when women were expected to be more ladylike. But I say, what’s wrong with being a rebel, a nonconformist, a free spirit? In a world that’s still so hell-bent on confining us, I say, let’s fly in the face of convention. Let’s take to the skies and show the world what it means to be a true aviatrix, unencumbered by the shackles of societal expectation.
>Soulkyn