Transplanted Life
Saturday, December 20, 2003
Christmas greetings
Sent mom a card today. Didn't sign it, no return address, wondered if she'd recognize my handwriting. I guess it's sort of a weird thing to do, but I felt the need to do something. It's not right to be cut off from your loved ones for the holidays, but just totally accepting it would be even more wrong. I did the same thing with the card that I on this machine every couple of weeks: Wrote out a long explanation of what had happened to me, why I hadn't said anything up to now, and what a pathetic, lying, miserable excuse for a son/friend I am. Then threw it away, because at best, it would just hurt them and at worst, expose them to danger. Or because I don't want them to see me like this. Or see that I'm managing fine on a day-to-day basis. Or... I don't know. Even if I knew what was going on, I don't think I'd be ready to tell people yet.

One thing I wonder is how my situation stacks up to "the grand scheme of things". While I was walking around downtown today, a group with a camera asked me to record a Christmas message to "the troops"; I said something generic and moved on. And it was weird; I haven't been a big news-watcher for years (ate it up in high school, realized as an adult that it wouldn't affect my life very much if I didn't know all that stuff), but I'm still aware of what's going on in the world. But thinking on the Gulf War, and the like, I can't help but think that my usual response would be "wow, sort of puts things in perspective, doesn't it?" It really doesn't for me, though. It's egotistical, but something unique and bizarre has happened to me. If it's witchcraft, like Michelle says, then it means that there's this whole secret world that most people don't know about, that our basic understanding of the universe is even more incomplete than most of us can know. And if it's some new technology... Well, it could change the world like no other one.

And me? Right in the center of something potentially huger than anything on the news and I just go to work everyday and agonize over my Christmas shopping.

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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at