I'm translating the hours from three different zone. An exercise in time travel, as I move backwards and forward in time. In my mind, I hold the vision of my home city. Is she wearing the Vanilla Sky or Neon Sparkles? I do not miss her. I am her beyond her boundaries.
I walk streets. I navigate people. I pretend to be a tourist. I pretend to be local. I meet with friends, old and new, eating way too many steaks and mushrooms and glasses of wine. I'm trying to understand. Understand this entity that is called a city. People. Humanity. We create I. I creates WE.
I'm from the frontier. Space. Wide fields. Open Mojave landscapes, naked mountains. I have been the single human within a 30 square mile radius. This city rising into the sky is strange to me. I set my strangeness aside. I decide to be comfortable. To drink deeply. To breath it in. I give my rational mind a vacation. The freedom to stop thinking about how to solve, do or understand logically - to feel. To feel with my body.
I'm enjoying the cool. A thunderstorm rolls across Manhattan, lightning strikes, rain falling on the rivers. Stray drops as I walk the streets. Later, to my delight, getting caught in a torrential downpour. The cold water soaks my non-raincoat. My leather fluevogs turn a darker shade of grey. A chill goes down my spine. There's nothing to do but enjoy. Enjoy - I do. After the thunder, the tension released, is always the sun; blazing bright on an empty Sunday motorway. The morning comes, the perspective is expanded. I move into the day in a different city, bringing with me, my memories, connections across the globe.
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