Some services you just happen (up)on…
One of the things I loved about living abroad was that I wasn’t living here.
While that might seem obvious, I mean that in the least literal way – that I was outside of the stream of my existence, in a way. I wasn’t “here” having to deal with any of “here.” I didn’t have to cross paths with “here.” It was like living in a parallel universe – somewhere “here” went on without me, while I was “there.” Many the times I have wished, since being back, that it were an easy matter to straddle lives, to poke my head into the next room, and see how my other self was getting along in the other world without me.
If this seems rather indecisive (as well as delusional), that’s because… it is. Nobody can live two lives. Yet, I have ever tried. In high school, I took a class I LOATHED, carrying a drop slip in my pocket for the entire semester. I could quit any time I wanted to… I do sound like an alcoholic at a failed intervention, don’t I? I thought so, too.
graded on longitude
my passport is my
drop-slip for The Here And Now,
a class I’m flunking.