Thursday, October 24, 2013


There is a kind of pleasant, dreamy delirium to vaulting across timezones and wandering through airports. 

As the world operates around me I drift through it, outside of time, liberated from the tyranny of temporal physics imposed on other mortals. When tired clerks shutter shops and cafe staff mop midnight floors I am piercingly lucid. Between punctuated catnaps and confined three-hour sleeps my invisible body, released from the demands of time's agenda, orbits through spinning clouds of passengers, yawning zombie-like. 

It is the transiting circuit through the living of ghosts and mythical beings.

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