I Believe... [The Quixote Zone]
…that we have now entered the Quixote Zone when old men declaring they are knights, reality stars declaring they are presidents, and the very declaration that you are defined by your belief in your own, specific reality contrary to every indicator otherwise is normal.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?