Yesterday I felt funny, like my underwear was on backward or something. The day and my expectations for its progression did not align and so no matter what lense I tried to look through, it appeared to me out of focus and time was thick and lacked any kind of viscosity.
My friend Chris thinks he is still suffering from a bout of culture shock and maybe that's what it feels like sometimes. We anticipate the cost of our moves so that it becomes second nature--both the quality of time and what that time can purchase.
Yesterday, everything was mismarked--either over priced or under priced and I felt like either someone didn't know what the hell they were doing or I was being taken advantage of and there was nothing I could do about it.
At ten o'clock in the morning I thought it was three o'clock in the afternoon. I ran around the perimeter of the compound on two separate occasions, once early in the day and once later, probably trying to gain a sense of equilibrium, wrap my head around the invisible clock, the fields of energy that we operate within--but it was not to be.
Now here I am the next morning writing this, awareness of my perspective reclaimed.
The feeling I had yesterday wasn't my underwear, the lubrication of my minutes or some cosmic blue light special--just Saudi Arabia messing with me.
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