I’ve been told many times that I have my head in the clouds.
My mind dreams off in every direction most of the time.
Occasionally I need to watch my footing and make sure I haven’t meandered off course too much.
As a result, my sense of belonging somehow feels displaced.
Like I’ve been living in a rocket ship that circles around and around –
stuck in an Einstein’s theory of relativity – where time seems to go faster for me than for everyone else.
Or is it the other way around.
Procrastination is not just a common annoyance but could also be a chronic and debilitating condition that could thwart a life in the wrong direction. I find clarity and direction in a place called Coney Island. Where I can redirect myself when gone astray.