we spies, we slow hands
This will probably sound obvious, but when you get laid up for months at a time you really lose touch. Not just with people and current events, but with everything. The world. The neighborhood. Reality.
Lacking some sort of grounding connection to the world around me, and saddled with an almost antigravitic urge to get away, anywhere but where this pain is, I guess I shouldn't be surprised at how thoroughly foreign the world becomes. Looking out the front door for the first time in a week, I get the strongest sensation that I'm looking out on a world where the gradient of time is much sharper than it is in here: people come and go, seasons come and go, and I remain here in slow time.
It's 24-hr reality television, coming right through the window. And here on the other side of the glass, I have about as much connection to the world as I would with a phosphor-dot image on the tele. The biggest problem is that it's always reruns... I've seen this one before. Didn't really like it the first time. And I'm hoping that one day soon something new will come along.
Lacking some sort of grounding connection to the world around me, and saddled with an almost antigravitic urge to get away, anywhere but where this pain is, I guess I shouldn't be surprised at how thoroughly foreign the world becomes. Looking out the front door for the first time in a week, I get the strongest sensation that I'm looking out on a world where the gradient of time is much sharper than it is in here: people come and go, seasons come and go, and I remain here in slow time.
It's 24-hr reality television, coming right through the window. And here on the other side of the glass, I have about as much connection to the world as I would with a phosphor-dot image on the tele. The biggest problem is that it's always reruns... I've seen this one before. Didn't really like it the first time. And I'm hoping that one day soon something new will come along.
2 Comments:
Right now I feel like I'm on another planet.
I just heard the presses stop. Which means I really am the very last person here. That's a strange feeling, too.
T.
It's fucking creepy being the last one in the building, on so many levels: does everyone but me have a life? Would my quality of life be better if I lived in a van down by the river? Am I totally this company's bitch?
Be glad you get that 'waking up' feeling at the end of the day... it's not as good as feeling awake and alive all day, but at least it tells you you're alive. There are precious few other indicators in the corporate lifestyle, and sometimes we need a reminder.
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