Both Here and There
This morning is like waking up from a high fever. The time that has passed is days instead of hours. There's no one here to tell me any different. Everything is as it should be, but not. The cats begging for me to get up as if they had not been feed yesterday evening, yet I know they were. My mid in a bleary half-state like it does not know what should come next, does not know what to do with itself. Things surface that will fill the gap. Make coffee, finish laundry, pay the phone bill, check email. But they do not stay, don't seem real. Tangible, the concepts make sense, I know what those things mean, know how I need to do them, but somehow it's not all there. It Doesn't seem like me. Sometimes I wonder where I must go when I sleep, whom I become.