Even as a very small child I had an innate sense of belonging in the future. In one of my earliest memories I am fresh from the bath and in my pajamas. Standing in the middle of the familyspace I feel like I'm looking at a box of pictures from when my parents were children or like I'm watching some rerun from long before my time. I have this weird feeling--some distant cousin to deja vu--that everything is suddenly strange and unfamiliar--that I belong elsewhere, another time and place. Fashion, furniture, architecture, and all the latest and greatest technological marvels our age can produce seem oddly quaint and anachronistic to me.
The years have numbed this peculiar sense of dislocation. The world is starting to look familiar. As I get older I get closer to my own time. I think I'm nearly home.