Oct. 4, 2015
Things don't feel the same. "Things." What an obtuse way to begin, but somehow it's fitting. It covers all the necessary parts without being too specific. I can't be specific right now. It's not the sun on the back of my neck. It's not the smell of concrete and coffee. Not the sounds of crows, cars, or the muddled and mundane conversations I can't help overhearing. Nor is the "thing" an "it." An 'it' can be pointed at. An 'it' can be talked about, examined, until it's no longer an 'it,' but instead becomes a 'thing.' Not the 'thing' that started all this, but a 'thing' with an identity-the noun behind the pronoun.
Let's try again. I am haunted. Not by ghosts, ghosts are things even if they are not real. I'm haunted, haunted by deja vu. This is better, but it's not it. I've woken up in someone else's daydream. Well... I'm not sure if I've woken up in someone else's daydream, but that's how it seems.
Things don't feel the same. "Things." What an obtuse way to begin, but somehow it's fitting. It covers all the necessary parts without being too specific. I can't be specific right now. It's not the sun on the back of my neck. It's not the smell of concrete and coffee. Not the sounds of crows, cars, or the muddled and mundane conversations I can't help overhearing. Nor is the "thing" an "it." An 'it' can be pointed at. An 'it' can be talked about, examined, until it's no longer an 'it,' but instead becomes a 'thing.' Not the 'thing' that started all this, but a 'thing' with an identity-the noun behind the pronoun.
Let's try again. I am haunted. Not by ghosts, ghosts are things even if they are not real. I'm haunted, haunted by deja vu. This is better, but it's not it. I've woken up in someone else's daydream. Well... I'm not sure if I've woken up in someone else's daydream, but that's how it seems.
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