Welcome back to the Boneyard for another tale of the half expected. Another hack piece, straight from brain to paper. Does anybody even read this? Am I wasting my time? What am I doing here? What does it all mean? Let’s try and find out. If you can bare with me and follow my thread of thought for just one second, we might resolve at some kind of point to this whole thing.
The Boneyard is a world where nowhere is everywhere. It exists. Well… Kind of. It does but it doesn’t. It’s a perspective on your surroundings more than a physical realm. An outlook. A point of view. Is it a real place? It is but it isn’t. It all depends on how you see it. It’s an observation, like walking around a zoo. I dwell in The Boneyard. I’ve been here too long. I sleep in it’s fields of long grass. I can’t exist outside of its walls. I’ve become the zookeeper. I walk among the others here. I’m one of them now. But also I’m not. Even in The Boneyard I don’t quite fit in. Am I making sense here? Are you still with me? Ok, good.
I’m not quite sure how to say this, but earlier in the week I somehow wound up in the car with a younger version of myself. He, the passenger, me the driver. It felt like a scene in a movie. Maybe it was. He didn’t realise the scenario like I did. Nobody would. To any observer it would seem like a completely normal drive from the airport. But I live in The Boneyard so I see it differently. It was a profound and surreal drive for me. I didn’t say any of this to him of course. This would have frightened him to no end. He would have jumped from that moving vehicle and ran the rest of the journey, just to get away from me and my talk of Boneyards and whatnot. But it happened. It was more real than reality. It was, but it wasn’t.