Last night I woke in my childhood home.
The room felt like I was there.
A breeze from the ocean.
The light of the night sky.
The shadows on the walls.
The direction of my bed.
I was there for what seemed a half hour, before I realized I was in an in between land . . . A waking dream state.
I felt that that must be what pleasant dementia feels like — to be in a moment of time in the past that had a small pleasantness associated with.
I am sick again. I don’t know if sentiment, allergies, menopause, supplements, weaning.
Just exhausted and unsound and most of all — scared.
