Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Time Traveling

* I wrote this last Friday morning in Georgia on the back on some directions...

Being here feels like time traveling. This is the past, not the present. But things have changed, it's not quite the same as it was once, so is it really the past? Suddenly, I'm confused.

Unsure of where I am, when I am, I question everything. What do I want? Why am I here? Should I be? It feels so foreign, yet so familiar.

I drive past an old house I've seen hundreds of times before. On the side of 316. They're always selling cars in their front yard. (Oh, Georgia.) But these cars are new cars. The rusted RV they tried to sell the full year and a half I lived here is gone. Sold maybe? I don't know.

Every street in Atlanta, in Athens, is full of memories. Some good, some bad, all overflow with feelings. I remember roads, but not names. I'm easily lost and need directions to places I've been many times before.

One of my favorite Sex and the City episodes says:

"Maybe the past is like an anchor holding us back. Maybe you have to let go of who you were, to become who you will be."

I don't know. I feel upside down, turned around, my stomach is full of knots. I feel lost in time. Lost in the back pages of my own life. This doesn't feel like home anymore. How can that be? Sometimes it's easier just to forget, but is it better?

* And you know what? I think this confusion was just a phase. Or was from something else altogether. Because from Friday night on, it felt like home to me. And it was even hard to come back.


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