My brothers think that I come from another planet. They don’t tell me that. They might not even know. I bet if you asked them, they would deny it. That doesn’t change the fact that they think it, and that I know it.
I used to wonder whether it could be so that I come from another planet. Now I know it’s not.
I came from this planet. I’ve figured that out this morning while I poured my third cup of coffee.
I’ve been on this planet from birth – no doubt. I just live on a different one most times now.
Here's how I travel. I wrote a response to something that was a week and a half old − only I didn’t know it. I thought the message I answered was alive and current. I didn’t realize the conversation was over until I finished what I was saying. I do that in real-life conversations almost daily.
While I stirred my coffee, I remembered a response that I gave a while back. That one was on time and on topic, but I spoke to the wrong person. The right person said, “Liz, catch up. The other guy’s been gone for months.” He doesn't remember that I'd thought he was the other guy once before. I do.
Once a man introduced himself by saying "Hi, I'm Tom." I said, "No, you're not." Thank goodness, he thought I was joking. I wasn't.
This morning, I realized those things happen a lot. I respond to a ghost, a concept, or cross information. My brain misfires on one nano-connection, and I’m on a new planet in a time warp, living a parallel reality. Some folks might call it not paying attention, eccentric, absent-minded professorism. Others would point and say “Ha! It’s insanity.”
I think that I work so hard to match words with ideas for folks to make sense of them, that sometimes I lose sight of the context in which I’m standing. When the words are right, I breathe. I look. I find that I’ve just waxed eloquently on Neptune, when everyone was giving opinions on ice cream.
I don’t know how to look outward and inward at once.
So for the moment, I’ll call it a space anomaly, deeply rooted in hyper-concentrated random warp travel thought theory.
In other words, when it comes to thinking and talking, I’m kind of spacey.
−me strauss Letting me be