a fork in the road

And you may ask yourself
How do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!

Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...

—talking heads


i'm in the midst of a strange existentialist quandary.

this is odd, because i'm not really conversant in existentialism.

but i am conscious of it. i think i'm in a quandary, therefore i am.

i seem to be heading down an alternative path. usually, in science fictiony stories, the characters are unaware that their path has diverged. but i'm feeling it.

i look out the window at my car, and it seems like someone else's car. i commute to work each day, and it seems like someone else's job. i'm oddly disconnected from events that should make me happy or proud. it's as if they're happening to someone else.

as if i'm having an out-of-body experience while still living in the moment. but it's not quite the right moment.

this unbalance has me off balance. and, though i've described the symptoms badly, my diagnosis is a divergence in space and time. i'm off the track i'm supposed to be on.

having established a diagnosis, what's the prognosis? what do people generally do in these situations? is it possible to get back on track, and is it advisable to do so? or is it better to press ahead and hope for the best? i wouldn't want to end up like this guy, for example...

Descartes is sitting in a bar, having a drink. The bartender asks him if he would like another. "I think not," he says, and vanishes.

equally important: is everyone else off their appointed tracks because i've strayed off mine? am i dragging others along on this digression? the ramifications of that are too profound to contemplate.

since i seem to have no choice, i guess i'll stay on this track for awhile. i enjoy driving the car, and the job is not bad. and my wife...she got her navel pierced. that's kinda hot, actually. no complaints there.

but i'm wary of this new path. it feels tenuous and maybe dangerous. uncertain. once, i knew how much i didn't know, and that we have only the illusion of control. now i have no idea how much i don't know (just that it's a lot) and even the illusion of control is gone.

it's like i'm driving with my eyes closed, the cruise control stuck, and the steering wheel has come off in my hands.

hope the road goes wherever i'm headed...

addendum: i went out to the garage this evening, and there was a raccoon, washing his hands in the cats' water dish, next to the cat food. i had interrupted his meal preparation. he decided to leave, but didn't know which way to go, as i stood between him and the door. he started one way, stopped, started toward me, stopped. i stepped away from the door, and he hurried out.