I took a long walk through my old neighbourhood the other day, and apart from the obvious things, it hasn't changed much. Regardless, it just doesn't feel like it's mine anymore. It's like I've been away for too long for anything there to remember me, even though it's only been 8 months. I've changed too much to belong there again, and yet I can't wait to move back there in a month. I've been looking forward to going back since before I left. I can't explain it.
I ran into the circles man on the street, and he had me explain the book that I was carrying. Yes, it was for school, and yes, I'm studying very hard. It was a custom courseware (read: overpriced book of photocopies that have no resale value whatsoever) about advertising as social communication. Very interesting stuff. He made a face and then smiled. "You've got to stop going to school," he said, clapping me on the back, "cause you're getting so smart that you won't want to talk to me anymore."
His accent seems to wander all over Eastern Europe and after years of trying I still can't place it. He never talks about his past. He shuffled away as I stood there, waiting for the light to change. Halfway down the block he stopped, turned around in a tight circle and then continued on his way. I haven't determined if it is just something he does, or mental illness. I don't ask.
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