Thailand to India

February 23 2012

It’s on.

I’m up early and it’s painless. There’s a taxi waiting outside as I’m checking out, and he’s happy to take me to the airport at a reasonable rate. There’s no traffic. I giggle with the woman checking me in about how my departure date coincides perfectly with my visa’s expiration. She claims that the flight isn’t full and offers me a seat at the back with no one in the neighboring seats. Immigration is pleasant. Everyone is helpful. I begin to recognize foreshadowing.

November 28 2011

Day 4

The thing I remember most about the conversation was the angle of the couch. Me, sprawled out in some Brooklyn apartment somewhere in 2003, virtually drawn and quartered between different realities. My mind moves back to that place and tries to crawl back into itself and fails miserably. I can’t remember who I was then, what belief systems were in place, what kinds of things made me happy, what moved me. I can’t put in place the driving force behind my being, I can’t remember toward what I oriented myself. I can’t really locate me in space.