It’s only been a week now, but it feels like an eternity. My little blue book, my life, my favorite piece of foreign souvenier is gone. I’m of course talking about my passport.
I could hardly believe that it had been 10 years since I got this one. My picture, sure, had changed a bit. It has been on my mind since I put it in the mail to send off to some non-discript office in Philidelphia for them to sort through, question the stamps from places like Swazliand, Korea, Japan, and Dubai and say “hey, this guy gets around”. I miss it — its like not having one of your ears.
So now I understand how it feels to not have the option to flee at a moments notice. I understand the feeling those criminals have when they have to surrender their passport — whats more is that I suddenly feel trapped, without an exit.
Oh the power a little blue book has over me.