returns

I have come back to the town where my life started to change. Bloomington. I feel connected to an emotional flow here like nowhere else. I feel more like myself instead of feeling like a tortoise watching a street parade. In Bloomington, there is a confluence of all the selves that have coalesced into the Paris-me, the real-me. But here, the past, present and future seem to be linked in a way both historical and transcendent. The flotilla of fireflies outside my window, accompanying me on my evening jogs, give me the buzz to say such sorts of nostalgia-glossed things.

I am lost in the oscillation between the elation of being in such a beautiful place surrounded by all my long-lost friends (Austen, Brontë, Woolf) and the fear that this project is never going to finish (preparing for my PhD exams).

I do know that the stasis that was turning my soul septic has been dissipated by the little green lights of the fireflies - each one telling me to go. To start. To begin. Being.