Disconnect

I go through my days in a daze. Ignore the unintended wordplay and vibe with me. There is no clear connection between one moment and the next. Instead of following a linear narrative I am adrift amidst coincidences, synchronicity and Pavlovian repetition. There is no clear connection between one moment and the next, and consequently I wind up repeating the same things over.

Unable to hold my timeline in my head, I am constantly extrapolating the present moment out to fill the whole. I remember a poem I wrote a long time ago, where the gist of it was that when it's winter, in my mind it has always been winter. I remember the poem but I don't remember writing it. There is no clear connection.

As a result of this fog, I can only practically remember the last two, maybe three years of my life. Anything before that enters into the realm of myth -- half-remembered snapshots as faded and yellowed as actual photographs, and my own written record. I pore over my old writings, trying desperately to remember being the person that wrote them, but there is no clear connection.

At the present I am not paying attention to my surroundings and circumstances. I am lost in my own head, confused and constructing narratives to explain how my karma led me here. As this present slides into the past, I am already there in the future, reading these words with detachment, trying to recall where and when I wrote them. What I was doing, thinking, feeling. Trying to connect one moment to the next.