my suburban jungle, the town of my birth, although the town I grew up in and knew has certainly grown larger through the years, still recognizable as the same animal as when I was a child, perhaps some of the habitat has changed, so, this is my domain, and surely I should know all the creatures great and small, human or otherwise, within my bubble safari, but alas, I have spent 48 hours romping in the wilds of new jersey, taking in those foreign sights, sounds, scents of another world not so far but far enough from familiar home, and now returned, sitting out here, I am finding the noise, the human traffic absurdly loud, a rattling diesel truck, a jet that seems to be roaring rumbling 10 feet above my head, various cars and their various escalation of rates of acceleration as the sound finally reaches me, bounces off and then Doppler effects me as they pass, the chatter on cellphones as others take their nightly walks, I have seen them all before, they seem like strangers masquerading as my neighbors, I don’t remember their manner being so distracting. can a mere 48 hours away have gone and transformed me into some feral new jersey man? nell jersey? (although my powers of speech and distinct joizee accent remain) I suppose it is all what you become accustomed to, acoustics, visualistic, olfaction, all those… the local mosquitoes are quite bothersome but not nearly compared to their giant cousins the unrelenting torrent of greenheads that ransacked my legs, I stroke my chin, damn, I need a shave, time to get back to this reality, this civilization, and readjust to the current situation, my re-urbanization, re-insertion into the matrix I am used to, knowing that some piece of me is still in there for the out there, wild, and ready to roam free, wild, feral, should the chance provide…

(of course this is part of my porch series, no cool remark tonight, just the post, disappointing? cool..)