I’d been writing and reading yesterday. Returning to this world was like being a ball and having all my air slowly released. I felt disconnected and out of sync, and wanted to return to the book worlds.
There were things to do. Eating, errands, housework. When I drift off into the writing/reading world like this, my wife seems to grow annoyed. I suspect she wants me to do more around the house, be more social, talk more. This is how she defines humans and husbands, so I end up being short on both scales. I’m happy but she’s resentful. Or so it feels.
A song from my youth answered my thoughts. “Eight Miles High” by the Byrds came out in 1966. I was ten. Its psychedelic sound appealed to me back then. So did the lyrics, which come into play with my feelings.
Eight miles high, and when you touch down
You’ll find that it’s stranger than known
h/t to Genius.com
Yeah, I felt like I’d touched down, and it all seemed strange.
thank you for introducing a great song. I am an 80’s kid and I love the lyrics and the music of this song. (Sigh) I too want to just write and read more often. some days that is all I want to do. It’s torment to even imagine what my husband would be if I chose to do so and neglected my duties as a wife.
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