.16) Moving In

When I first moved to this neighborhood, Life came abruptly to my bed every morning and pulled me into its river. I had to wake up to find my way— the map of before was no longer of use. Homes, sky, vegetation, people and cars whirled around me, a wild kaleidoscope. I never walked past the same place twice. The neighborhood began to solidify after I'd lived here a couple of months. The kaleidoscope congealed. I became a spider in a web, having spun my mental grid around the world. I’d memorized my life! I began to cross the same intersection every day, instead of being surprised by unexpected streams of asphalt rising suddenly before me. Now I find myself thinking, 'I need to get away.'