sunrise

5:45 AM from the backyard of GV2

It’s been a long fall. I’m not too sure yet how to write about it. I enjoyed my last sunrise in Mar Vista this morning, the dawning of a new day which I’d end back here, “home,” in Little Armenia.

I have an unfamiliar weight on my chest. An expression of these months colliding with the future. I could anticipate something in this return to reality, but the content of that circumstance couldn’t be anticipated. For now it’s heavy breathing, some invisible hand pushing lightly but firmly down on my sternum.

The objects surrounding me now still seem familiar, but my body doesn’t. Connection is currently a strange fiction. There is a fog of peace, a threat of calm. Movement is about to push in many directions, but now I am here, where I was months ago, but where then I really wasn’t.

It’s been a long fall, I am tired & the helicopters have replaced the far-away planes in the night sky. Forgive the vagueness & abstraction, I am not ambidextrous. These hands feel useless, anyway. There is much to do.