Monday, July 2, 2012

Delusions


Every day I awake incredulous I'm still in my parents' guest room.  I know it's summer by the oppressive, humid heat and the scattered electrical storms.  I can tell by the tanned women who work in the hospital that the beach is near.  Flags and red white and blue streamers indicate a national holiday is approaching.  I'm walking through life, getting through each hour.  Although I'm much more alive than my father, I don't feel like I'm living.  Manhattan, two hours away, where so many of my friends live, is inaccessible.  I'm at the epicenter of so much drama, yet I feel disconnected.  Some feed off of this type of excitement, I prefer the simple things like un-airconditioned air, produce from my farmers market, morning stillness, a yoga class.  And yet this is where I want to be, so I tolerate the less than desirable things and savor the good moments.

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