macon. i can hardly believe i came back to this godforsaken place. it’s changed in comparison to my heavy memory, for certain - it no longer has any power over me, negative or otherwise. i’m sitting here on the dock that juts out into the pond behind Shadowood, and it’s all utterly banal. it’s just another apartment complex, undeserving of my demonization over the past few years. this place belongs to other people now. just the same, i was strangely tempted to knock on the door of my old apartment, just to make sure i wasn’t there.
back in atlanta: every night, when i return to my hotel room, everything is exactly the same as it was the previous night; the bed is perfectly made, the floor has been vacuumed, the glasses arranged in a pyramid. the same song is playing each time as well - ‘don’t get around much anymore’. the days are all clones of some single distant moment, its significance long forgotten.
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