Today's rain has made me nostalgic for everything.
For the past, for the present and for the future.
When I start to think that I would fit somewhere in a French movie,
I get angry at myself for being such a sissy.
Images are shutter clicking one by one through my mind's eye.
I'm in the future.
Maybe I'm walking the streets of Seattle, watching dirty fishmen throw fish to each other in rubber boots.
The catcher wraps the fish in paper and lays it on the display rack.
The other one laughs heartily at something and wipes his hands on his apron.
He is smoking, but the catcher recently quit.
Maybe I'll go to the forest later.
But I'm not in Seattle. I'm in India.
Dipping a hesitant toe into the River Ganges,
observing the piety of its bathers and remembering what I have been taught about parasitic water.
Just a little would be ok... up to my knees.
And now I can't help but put my hands in. Cupping the water back and forth... Ok, ok, that's really enough.
This river is full of crap.
Women are wearing beautiful scarves...
When is a good time to get that job?
Maybe I need to feel bolted down for a while.
I know that my family is starting to need it for me.
I'm walking the fine line of being an admirable world traveler and a selfish bum who will never come home for Christmas again.
But maybe I will continue to travel a little longer.
Just until the recession breaks...
Hell I'm still young enough.
Now I'm back before then.
I'm thinking about you.
How I knew you and how I know you.
I'm thinking about your family and your pets and your favorite color.
Sometimes I have to love you in a sad way,
but I love you.