Falling back into your body comes at a price, but it might be one that's worth paying. You can get this temporary (long-lasting) high off of wandering around, changing the background. But, as many people have observed over the centuries, at the end of the day, you are still there. It's a habit of mine and Iva's to fall onto the subject of why we can't or won't make things stick. I think we're both learning a lesson at the moment.
The problem is, all the things you may want to stick may not be in the same place. Then what?
The chaos is either outside or it's inside. One has to be louder than the other, at any given moment. That's the problem, for some of us, with getting comfortable. It can start this thing churning in a place deep inside that you don't know how to reach with your own two hands.
I'm going to try to put my hand on it, this time.
Every moment in life, from a certain point of future perspective, can be viewed, if not as a failure, than as a practice session. Strength training. One day, when you wake up the next morning, you just won't be sore anymore.
Three hours of sleep isn't nearly enough to face a day on the crowded, jostling streets of Seoul. Small Town said, in a text message this week, that he bet Incheon had never felt more like home. At Bupyeong Station tonight, boarding that light blue line and taking an empty seat on the quiet train, I realized he was right.
What am I trying to say? I haven't any idea. My thoughts and emotions seem to shuffle like cards in very capable hands these days. For now, I'm breaking my own rule -- sliding open the entire back side of my apartment and taking a bottle of wine, a book and my cigarettes to bed. I want tomorrow to start early.