I feel suspended here, very similarly to my months in Boston before leaving to come here in Febuary. I know I'm going, but not yet. It creates a weird lethargy in my efforts to create my life. I am reluctant to set things up, for so soon I'll have to abandon them, yet I can't live with no plans from day to day. It feels to me that the solution is to let the leaving recede in imortance, to make space for new plans; but what if then I accidentally never leave? Surely a ridiculous leap, that. Once I asked my mother if I could live in her house for five months and she immediately replied: "I just don't want you living here when you're thirty!"
For now is not forever
(a.k.a. I may try to rent a room)
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