mahiwaga

So this is what my life is reduced to.

I have been living out of a suitcase for pretty much two weeks now, my soul scattered across three cities. (I have this image of a blue amoeba-like thing splattering upon some hard black surface, coalescing into three parts, which are now futilely trying to come back together.) I think I am gaining some insight into why the narrator of Fight Club essentially goes insane from having to fly from city to city to city.

Especially with these prefab anchor stores. Borders. Barnes and Noble. Starbucks. Old Navy. Target. Each particular store is purposefully built according to some master plan. I recognize that the rationale is so that, no matter what city you're in, you won't feel lost within these franchises. Unfortunately, I feel like what this does is make you forget what city you're in. So I know where the clearance rack is, but I don't know where on earth I am.

I really think that constant repetition and uniformity causes insanity. Which, I suppose, explains why the world is now the way it is, but I digress….

I'm running on faith and hope these days. Which, I must say, is no mean feat when you're an avowed cynic.

I didn't feel a thing, but the DJs on one of the radio stations commented on it. I wonder if surfers noticed if the waves changed?