A Route Not Followed

It occurs to me I could have gone the other way in the last 10 years of my life. I could have kept part of what was old, broken only piece of it, introduced a new fragment to fill in. So I would have a new and old life patched together. I might have enjoyed the seams that would quickly fill with experiential plastic, transparent glue time where I would do things out of time, respite. I would be sitting and traveling perhaps. The real life segments would soon develop boundaries, memory would seal them from each other. I could even take on different names and make up different histories which my memory would embalm in plastic membranes.