I've had an unsettling feeling all week. It's as if some shimmery of reality gossimered too much to and subtly, I've slipped into a similar, yet completely different reality. Have I been dosed as in Stanislav Lem's Futurological Congress, but I am living through the Presentologist Election? Is there something in the water? Or has someone nanotechnologied the air - like a friend wrote in her scifi novel? Or is just the lyric from a favorite ballad, "all my songs are coming true."
There is nothing to ground me in this reality. On the dog walk, the leaves shimmered in the cool evening air. The rough skittering of one across the pavement. I inhale the air. The dog sniffs. I want to walk. I need to move my body. I feel my feel pressing on the ground beneath my sandals.
Back home, the sweat of the day is sticky. I shower. I watch the purple swirling in the water at my toes. I turn on the AC. My LED lights. I return to my computer. To think, to write. To double check my todo list. I shockingly dream of a boring job. Something 9 to 5, where I sit at a phone and fill out paper work.
What the hell is going on? I'm starting to think something is really wrong, but I can't put my finger on the subtle dramatic shift. I can only watch, be aware and hope that I am not lost in some other world, or between the cracks.