Am I Losing Touch?

It’s frightening how easy it is to fall back in place. Like I’ve never left. I feel right in place, so comfortable and secure. Or at least I did for a couple of days.

Euphoria is a tricky business. As soon as it’s realized, it slips right through. It cannot be grasped. Mainly, I feel, because it’s not reflexive. You don’t experience euphoria because of some great personal realization. It’s never internal, always external. That is why it’s so swift. As soon as you become conscience of it, it’s gone.

I’m still comfortable, yes. But not euphoric anymore. Because the first, genuine, lax, happiness was substituted in a much more tense, uneasy kind of time. Maybe lingering. It’s like I’m only able to live between a shift to another. Between the margins. Past and future. That as well is why euphoria is only seen in retrospective.

I feel remote. Unattached. As in daze, hovering over and above. It’s a bitter recognition, knowing that soon I’ll be coming back to myself, but only for a few more months. Then I’ll have to be trapped, enclosed, locked in myself again. Will I be able to keep touch?