Much Farther To Go

I am here. I am in Winkler. I trip over the word ‘home’ now like I never used to. Because even as now I’m surer than ever I don’t mean it, I don’t want to offend. Plus, this does make me homeless. Or attached to a place (Winnipeg? Canada?) that it would be in my best future interest not to leave. Does that make me a prisoner? Either way, I have to serve my time.

Work has been good for my soul. Even though I haven’t technically been earning my keep, I know eventually I will, and the effect is the same. I leave my house for 9-11 hours, depending on activity, and I am wiped out at the end of the day. I noticed yesterday as I was falling asleep, that the days have begun to blur together. Less so than they would be if I was constantly constantly busy, but I really can’t distinguish one day from another. I know I’ve always been a bit like that, forgetting what I did yesterday, especially if it was exactly what I’ve been doing most days previous. But is this what life is? Where the moment you’re living now is the most important thing in your life, but previous replicas of this moment are gone forever into oblivion?