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Always time when time is not real

I was watching the news from the US for a bit. It seems far away and not distinct to my old eyes. Like a formulaic scene from that movie I fell asleep on after that one too many beer. My friend Paul asked me the outcome of all that election fervor. I don’t know. I don’t blog the body politic. I’ve never been political and it’s served me well. Now being in Vietnam for three more months and then somewhere else specifically not the US I feel this disconnect and time seems to drift like the plot in that movie.

Was it yesterday I saw Paul? I have a loose grasp of time. So I asked him. He had to ask his wife. It seems with advancing age you either take time into account or you blow it up. Both of us have melted into some other reality where time ceases and the mad striving of the clock avails not. I felt the same way living in Phnom Penh last year. Someone would call me on WhatsApp and ask how some day was going. I was lost. Was it that day? What month? They would laugh. I had succumbed. I slept when slept was needed, drank beer as necessary and would go meet my friend AV for seafood and drinks. Where was time?

It’s the same now. Days and their nights. Vietnamese friends call sometimes. It’s like,

uncle Mike? Are you ok? Have you eaten? Can.we see you?

I always smile but they can’t see. Of course it’s another time when we go and they laugh at me and with me. I forgot something. Oh. To pay the bill. Hahaha.

There’s always time when time is not real.

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