Did not write yesterday. Tried to, but was too busy at first, too tired after that, and too drunk in the end. This, too, is a thing I have missed—not having time. Sitting with a mild hangover in a cafe, I am forced to remember the flight from a night ago. I looked out the window and saw three clouds arranged contiguously, like pieces of farmland separated by fences. It was all I could think about for a good chunk of the journey. Then, I slept and woke up with the expected thud of the plane landing on the asphalt.
This moment, the one I am in currently, came faster than I thought it would. That is to say, I did not realise when a day passed. Yet, looking at yesterday, I cannot fathom the sheer amount of things I did. The blanket of uneventfulness has been lifted from my life, it seems, and I have not even spent a weekend here. Of course, everything comes with some sort of caveat, an asterisk that tells you to look for the fine print. Now, I have begun to read it, and I have realised that all places and all people have terms and conditions attached to them. Ultimately, the conditions you find favourable or tolerable make or break your time with people and places. There is always the choice to not read, to ignore the fine print altogether. But I am not one to not know what I am getting into, and it has its benefits, but also, it seems ignorance has its pleasures, too. At least, that is the impression I get when I look at other people.
In any case, I think I have ruffled the status quo now, and there is no returning to my old life. Even if I went back after a week only to return permanently, I would still have spent a week here. It would have changed me in ways I would not know. People change us, places do, too. Once you lift the veil, you cannot draw it back over your eyes. Once you set things in motion, you cannot bring them to a halt. For the first time in a long time, I feel uncertain, unsure. This is unnerving. It is also the only thing I need right now.