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I'm living an invisible existence. I have been for almost a decade now. I don't know how to reappear. I don't know how to stop starting every sentence with "I." Are we deceiving ourselves? Are we blocking our departures from the Self? Maybe we are more fantastic than we realize and the "I" driven sentences are more than justified. I tried. I keep on trying.

People take holidays. They TAKE them and enjoy them and pay extra for extra and come home with some pretty pictures. How can I be that person? That seems so orderly and nice. Here, here is your vacation and here, here is your pill of relief and moment of escape. There! Now you are refreshed and ready to clock in again. When is your lunch break? Would you like to talk about the stock market with me for 30 minutes over a barbecue chicken sub? Then we can begin all over again tomorrow.

I don't know. I don't know if I am destined for anything other than a yurt in the Northwest. I'll place all my bets on that and hope for the best.

You are looking really good tonight. You are looking remarkable, in fact. Let me take you home. Let me plant you in the soil I have yet to buy. (And why do we have to buy the earth where we will retire to? Is this a sick joke or just a vacation from the norm? I want my bones to fade away for free. I want to leave no trace except for an escape.) But it's true. It's true that you look good tonight.