meine andere Hälfte.

I used to think that time was meant to be spent as one sees fit, my time, my energy. It takes a lot of thinking – of self knowing to understand what it is that motivates a person to excuse yourself and understand that the time that is allotted to each of us is not only ours to spend how we wish, but also for us to share. Maybe it is nice to see films, read books and listen to the way things might or should be, but only on a surface level are things ever as clear as they actually are. I like to think about my personal ideas and my plans during the weekends, when I have a chance to catch up; to think clearly and not have to worry about being at work. I understand that the ways in which I grew up have come around to affect the ways in which I live. The Midwest has some strange way of turning what you used to think was terribly boring and mundane into what is now, maybe, seen as being exactly what it is that you will look for in 10 or 15 years. I see myself having a problem with this. On the one side, I will long ever so hard for routine, seasons, and the passing of time using my knowledge to understand where I’m at in the world and what brought me here. And then the other side is where I want to be gone from any place I am at, for want of a better place, or possibly, just new scenery. Routine is boring and life should move at a pace of leisure, expanding yourself in various locations, pulling from all corners of the globe, and finally meeting somewhere in the middle. I think I must have been separated at birth from another person sitting out there, thinking and writing the same things as I write; thinking the same things as I think and longing for the same things I long for. Maybe that is what we find in a mate. I feel it goes deeper than that, as if in a past life I met myself in this life. I understand things to be easier than they should be. I am in a constant state of déjà vu. I do believe I met an earlier version of myself the other evening while waiting for the bus. I was about 63 years old and had traveled the world, seen the sights and understood where that put me. I understood where my experiences had brought me, and why that was important to not only remember, but to talk about. How strange that on one night, I would get stuck at just the exact location that my earlier self was sitting, waiting for nothing in particular, just living. I think I will be happy as I get older. I think I will understand why and how.

Mexico, in Transit

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