On bearings

I think I understand a few new things now when it comes to the logic I have been living by.

At first there were a few Parisian blocks, their bounds themselves reinforced by whooshing cars. My world existed in those, pre-selected parcels of city estate. They provided me with almost everything I needed. For everything else, there was a “remote locations appendix” of places I knew “could be accessed” if needed by means of a father or a mother or a car perhaps. Almost like teleportation.

Then, my world fit. It fit. It used to fit in my head, in my conception of the world. It fit for a while.

Then I moved. Zipped across the ocean on a plane, about 4500 miles of mental distortion, of fumbling, of de-setteled unsettling sets of stretches shifting all my previous landmarks into my soon overflowing “remote locations appendix.”

I discovered new bearings. A new logic. A new people. It barely fit anymore. I could only fathom it so long as, again, everything else was forced into the “remote locations appendix.” Soon it became the closest resemblance to a home I had on earth, some friends, some buildings, some inanimate props.

However my world was dramatically reduced. I restricted it to the confines of my house and school. And the park. And that fit. Like nibbling on geography, afraid to invest into these new surroundings. Wouldn’t they change too?

Wouldn’t they soon become intangible? absent? almost irrelevant? Every now and then, I’d flip through “remote locations appendix” which had turned to my “remote bearings appendix” where my old apartment, my father, my families, my friends all jumbled. Fumbled. Trumpled. Shrumfeled. And me unwillingly humbled. All these notions blurred. Persons. Places. Things. Ideas. Times.

Grasping at air was too frustrating and disappointing. I would simply wait. Wait to travel back and visit. But then what, the surreal nebulosity these beings had become was never completely opaque anymore.

Then there was a person. One who could stretch my world effortlessly. I went to her because her presence turned a block into an endless valley. Of tangible joy. Of tangible feelings. Of invigorating truth. My “bearings” calmly levitated themselves from the ground and floated around her. She, her, her presence became my bearings. My true bearings. My only bearings.

Who could want anything else?

A coward. One who might have seen the bearings fade in broad daylight. Too frightened to hope in a new encounter.


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