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I have been sitting at home. Home in this case is not quite where the heart is, but in a more eldritch fashion where I have the most memories. Certainly if I were to burrow my way out of the Hedge then I would arrive here, in Boise Idaho.
This valley is more beautiful then I even took in. Having spent nearly two years in the desert, I have come to appreciate the variety of temperatures and colors that exist in other, less hellish, parts of this country.
The plane ride was cathartic. Once I dreamt on how I would be remembered, and to what degree I would be disappointed, should it be my time to go up in a fiery crash. In another moment I thought on my past, what I would change, and what I might say to each of them should I have the opportunity to face those I have once loved in years past.
It was not known to me when I booked my flight that my sister would be leaving Idaho to fly to L.A.. Even more amazing, not knowing her path, was the fact that we would both be laid over in SFO. Reunited, we were only able to see each other for eight minuets; however, she will be returning before I am to return to the Hell that is Phoenix.
Is there some odd psychosis of individuals that travel, constantly, over great distances that feel familiar to them? What of the man who has meetings, consistently, in the same cities, all of which are inanely familiar to him. Two years later, it is as if I was never gone. Could Phoenix have been a mundane dream? Are those individuals that we formed friendships with trapped in Germany, New Mexico, Kansas, or Maryland? Reminds me of an old RPG idea we had once.
I have been sitting at home. Home in this case is not quite where the heart is, but in a more eldritch fashion where I have the most memories. Certainly if I were to burrow my way out of the Hedge then I would arrive here, in Boise Idaho.
This valley is more beautiful then I even took in. Having spent nearly two years in the desert, I have come to appreciate the variety of temperatures and colors that exist in other, less hellish, parts of this country.
The plane ride was cathartic. Once I dreamt on how I would be remembered, and to what degree I would be disappointed, should it be my time to go up in a fiery crash. In another moment I thought on my past, what I would change, and what I might say to each of them should I have the opportunity to face those I have once loved in years past.
It was not known to me when I booked my flight that my sister would be leaving Idaho to fly to L.A.. Even more amazing, not knowing her path, was the fact that we would both be laid over in SFO. Reunited, we were only able to see each other for eight minuets; however, she will be returning before I am to return to the Hell that is Phoenix.
Is there some odd psychosis of individuals that travel, constantly, over great distances that feel familiar to them? What of the man who has meetings, consistently, in the same cities, all of which are inanely familiar to him. Two years later, it is as if I was never gone. Could Phoenix have been a mundane dream? Are those individuals that we formed friendships with trapped in Germany, New Mexico, Kansas, or Maryland? Reminds me of an old RPG idea we had once.