Through gray and rain, through hills and mountains, through ghettos and bright lights, let's count the cities, the signs - Atlanta, Chattanooga, Nashville; you whistling, me humming the whole time - "home is where ever I'm with you".
Now, here, I'm packing books and paintings, the shelves are starting to empty. My life will exist at a lower latitute in a month and some change, the future's concreteness is beginning to dawn on me in a dark living room. The cats chase each other through the maze of my things. Their ornery comradery is something that makes me smile (but at the back of my mind I already feel bad for knowing that too shall end [pass?]).
Keep repeating this, self, like a prayer, beads on a rosary: Change change change change change, flux flux flux flux flux, cyclical cyclical cyclical cyclical cyclical cyclical, embark embark embark embark, change flux cyclical embark, be brave.