I go on weird walks; don’t follow me. Â As I was walking tonight through a rift between two houses in my parent’s neighborhood I was talking to myself – only a bit and through my breath like some people do to motivate themselves on jogs (I imagine people do this sometimes). Â It was dark, the rift is frightening. Â I kept saying: “I am alone. Â I am alone.” Â And gradually it was: “I’m a loan. Â I am a loan.” Â I am but a loan.
Is this an inspiring notion, or one that can be debilitating: that one is but on loan from some hidden cue?