…And when you’re finally able to master time and space, you’ll no longer be interested in it, because by then you’ll inhabit another world; the one that you came from before light and darkness had a name, where the other part of you has always been, waiting for your return…

I’m back on the road this Sunday evening, rolling through Georgia into Atlanta, where I’ll transfer buses. I got about an hour in layover time at Atlanta, which is cool. I’ll use the time to read Gravity’s Rainbow, since I’ve finally–after all these years–gotten past the first fifteen pages of the book.

I had some coffee earlier today, so I don’t know if I’ll sleep all that wistfully tonight, but I’m cleaning the body out with some water every other moment.

Regardless, I feel that after the last ten or so days on the road, going back home on the bus again is the best thing I can do for myself. I’ll use the time to process what I can of Miami, and to make peace with what I am and what I’m not looking at when I return to L.A.

The sunset is beautiful in Atlanta, amidst all its lush, green forestry. When I’m lucky I can see past the greenery to catch a glimpse of the orange-and-blue orb of light as it subsides for the night.

The bus ride has been leisurely, as there are probably not even ten people on board. There’s one guy in the back who’s yapping the time away on the phone, but rather than disturbing the trip, it sort of spices it up a little bit with some noise to cancel out dreaded silence. Of course, silence is its own gift, when the time is right.

Earlier through Georgia the bus passed through a rainstorm, and it was a fierce downpour, clad with thunder in the distance and all. The raindrops seemed to melt the windows of the bus, enveloping me in a translucent, bubbly, whirlwind of a world.

It’s funny how our eyes create such bubbles. With their round shapes, our eyes make for a circular periphery of everything. My mind is circular, then, even though my brain protrudes in all directions.

Here, I notice a beautiful orange-pink ripple of a cloud across the sky; the sun’s last mark in its evanescent farewell. A few moments later, the sky darkens further: the night is upon me. Despite not having a blanket, I am absolutely ready for the cold it will bring.