This is something that happened to a friend of mine in her own words.
“So, on Friday night my friend and I were at her house and wanted to get out and do something for the evening. We brainstormed ideas and she brought up the idea of seeing a show at the Laugh Factory. I’d never been, I thought…
For each person, there’s a moment, sometimes as long as a year or as short as a single day, when a place seems so right to that person, so ringing with crystal perfection, that every following second, every subsequent iteration of that place as it slips through time in a constant flux of renewal and decay, is a sacrilegious affront to that place’s moment of transcendence.
People tend to say things like “well, back to the real world” when they get back from vacation. Which is weird, because spending 8+ hours a day sitting at a desk surrounded by prefab half-walls ticking away at a keyboard while staring at a screen is the height of surreality.