And the vision that was planted in my brain ...

Just returned from a trip to St. Louis. To clear my head and to rethink. Saw my bestest friend, which was lots of fun, and met her new beau. No codename for him yet ... get to work on that right away, PasteEater.

St. Louis is a lot different from Providence. Mainly, it's cleaner. And friendlier. And the gas prices are cheaper. Oh, and by "St. Louis", I mean the suburbs thereof including the Loop. Important distinction, as anyone who lives in East St. Louis could tell you. Speaking of which, did you hear that the guy who writes the Boondocks, Aaron McGruder, co-authored a new graphic novel? The premise is that East St. Louis gets sick of being disenfranchised and whatnot, so they secede from the Union and form their own country. Sounds like a hoot.

Anyway, on my last night there, having drunk 2 TGIF-sized Long Island ice teas, I fell into a deep slumber. I had a lot of dreams that were all basically the same. I was being pulled in one direction by someone, and I kept telling her that I couldn't go, that I had to stay. And she kept saying, "Well, we can still be friends." After a few dozen variations on that, I had a really odd experience. A voice, very loud, boomed through all my dreams and spoke directly to me, my conscious self behind the dreaming. It was half female, half male. And I suddenly became very conscious of the fact that, although I was still dreaming, this voice was not my own. The voice said, "Your heart isn't there anymore. It's time to move on."

I knew right away that "there" referred to Providence. I had been thinking very seriously during my trip about moving to St. Louis in a few months. And the Voice more or less confirmed that desire. I pictured moving back to St. Louis, and being near my aforementioned best friend and family, and that was all great. Then, the Voice said something else, almost as a disclaimer: "But remember that it's not forever".

I've been struggling with that one. My first thought was that the Voice was waxing poetic, throwing out that thought as a memento mori. But I've thought about it some more, and I think what it actually meant is that, even if I do move back to St. Louis, anyone I know there will eventually move on, too. Even my parents are going to move after the Mother retires.

I don't really know what to make of all this. And I apologize for breaking my own rules about keeping my posts light-hearted, but it's been a rough couple of weeks for me. I'll be back to normal someday.