Don’t cry for me: Most my ‘social’ life is conducted on the phone. A bit hard on a person as tactile as I am. Doesn’t matter where I am. I am always HERE.
No, I am not wheelchair bound. I am as fast on my feet as what’s his name, the messenger whinging it. What I am is – always somewhere else. Mainly abroad. To top it all my passport has run out. I told longest standing friend (think sandpit) that I am now a prisoner of this island courtesy to my country’s laws and their London embassy’s mills turning slowly. Though they will give me an emergency passport should someone close and across the sea die. Die. What sort of difference does that make to the dead? Prisoner on this island. What friend said – he is very dry: “”You have been a prisoner on those isles for a long time.”
Fact is, passport not withstanding: In theory I can go where I want. But where do I want to go? If there is one thing I hate it is choice paralysis. And choice paralysis has set in. We need reason in life. Definition. And sometimes we realize that we have too much of a good thing. And too little of the other.