It Seems Like

The Stare

 . . . yesterday. Was it yesterday? I can't tell any more. It kind of was. But now it's ten to four in the morning of where I was when I posted the last post. Here, it's ten to three in the afternoon. I still have an hour and a half until I board my next plane and then there's another four? Five? hours until I arrive in Montreal.

Geting on the bus at 6 a.m. yesterday morning seems like ten centuries ago. You can see the 1,000-mile stare in my rigid gaze to the left . . . too many gates, too many buses, too many people, too many conversations, too many checking and rechecking, too many have I lost it?s and Where did I put it?s and What time is it now?s . . . it's called The Danger Zone.

I just almost lost my jacket. Preoccupied with a non-working power cord to my computer, I pulled up stakes from one location and went to an Apple Store to see if it was just my computer or the airport's outlets (it was my plug) and then I buy a new plug, move my encampment to a new campground, and . . . my jacket! Where's my jacket????? My boarding pass is in it! Quick! What else? Credit card? No, got that . . . my Kindle! My Kindle is in the jacket! NOT REPLACEABLE! RUNRUNRUNRUN . . . . thank god the jacket is still on the back of the chair where I left it. Thank god I'm in Canada. Yesterday I almost left all Tai-chan's paintings at the bus stop for the airport in all the confusion of paying the bus driver and getting all my bag stuff together . . . a nice Japanese guy who had been sitting next to me on the wait bench brought it onto the bus and gave it to me. What if I'd left it . . . ?

No wonder I have lost laptops. Credit cards. never a passport, thank god. But so many things to think about . . . a 36-hour travelling circus of details, things to carry from place to place, distractions, little, big, huge, small . . . THINK about it. It's a miracle I'm here at all.

At this moment as I type, I hold in my head a mental inventory of all my possessions. I must keep going over that inventory. Over and over again. When I go into a bathroom. When I leave the bathroom. All my possessions . . . everything that I DEPEND ON . . . have moved from two hotel rooms in Japan through three buses, five planes, six terminals, 4 security checks, two baggage pickups, five restaurants, countless escalators, elevators, walkways, ramps, stores, benches, airplane seats . . . computer has come in and out at least twenty times in that period, Kindle, passport, credit card, cash, magazines, pens, boarding cards, itineraries . . . the question is not DID I make it in one piece, but HOW did I make it in one piece?

It's a GODDAMN FUCKING MIRACLE.