on a night like this

my head is swimming.

my head has been swimming since last night, when i took a little walk past the Home Depot, past the train tracks and through the hole in the chainlink fence. past Waverly, onto Bernard and then west. more west. but not west enough.

if my boots wouldn't have been rubbing against my heels, i might have walked for hours. past the mountain, maybe. with Bob Dylan singing in my ears underneath my hood, i think i could have walked forever. invisible and invincible. Planet Waves had me all figured out and nothing else mattered.

on the way back, i got a really strange feeling when i imagined how it would feel like to go back in time; back to that very same bus stop on Van Horne to see the 16-year-old version of myself on that warm summer day. the one i'd been trying so hard to picture. the one who just realized his heart was broken and who would only later learn that the lack of a proper explanation is what really hurt the most. like losing a loved one at sea. what words of wisdom would i have for him? not even sure i would say a thing. probably just study his face. try my best to memorize it.

but that was yesterday. today i'm thinking about the master plan.

i haven't yet decided if i have any control over this or not. but i have become acutely aware that something in me has awoken and has since taken on a life of its own. time has slowed somewhat. days and weeks no longer pass unaccounted for - not without some kind of written record or psychological marker.

another chapter of the time traveller's wife. another insanity workout with Amy.
another one of those fun drum sessions where you forget it's you playing.

this is the way it has to be.

if a future me should ever visit, i would want to make sure he'd have plenty to say.