Where the f*ck am I? was the first
thought that entered
my mind as I awoke this morning. What's this, I was
sleeping in a bed? Ah yes, I am back home.
Home sweet home.
Or something.
I still feel
disoriented and
out of place. Strange, I suppose, considering I had only been out of town for
three weeks. Those three weeks lasted both an
eternity and a brief moment.
Overall, I feel like I've
reached out my hand towards something and
barely touched the
surface before it was yanked away abruptly. This is good, though,
feeling at a loss. Last night as I fall asleep I couldn't even feel this loss. A deep sadness
took over me without any other feeling accompanying it - which is unusual.
I'm unsure whether it was the
whole being on the east coast (in
Boston) for the first time thing and actually seeing what trees and
weather is like, or that I have left behind an unfortunately very
cool person in my life sort of thing. Either way, as I
flew into
San Diego I was in total amazement.
What the hell, I live in the desert! What's that brown crap along the highway? Oh, it's a tree!
The
good side of all this is that I
missed my computer and my stereo.