(Mom, the boy, and the blissful pacific)
Home again, home again. They're my friends; I made them. Already sidetracked by Bladerunner.
That was the first sentence of today's post and already I am losing grip on my subject. How do I do it?
Well, it's easy, you see... just commit to maintaining a scattered focus in the mind. It's sort of the opposite of meditating.
Be that as it may... We returned from vacation in Costa Rica yesterday. It was two days of travel from the time we left the beach. I used to be better at travel in some ways - less anxiety about dying, now - but worse in others - I dread the time lost more. It seems arduous, losing the hours and moments of a day. The tax of time's passing. I suppose that temporal forebodings are the occasional byproduct of aging. Or, can be. Be that as it cliche... time isn't the subject of today's post ,either, or at least not explicitly.
What am I trying to write about here? I guess I'm just wanting to finalize the journey portion of this series.
We returned, there were details to relay, but none that jump to mind now.
I wanted to write about the rains while we were there. They were something. Maybe tomorrow, when my mind has dried out a bit. I drank for a week straight but avoided any on the way home yesterday. Though I still feel as if there is a slight cloud of hangover hovering over my mind, a storm made from choices.
Drink is something that the smart and dull alike can disagree on.
I have to run to get something to eat and go for a bike ride. I must try to step back into the routine of living. Or rather, the routine of my life. Tomorrow I return to work, like all you other schlubs.
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