Time melted under hot tires,

as I held my mothers hand,

and ran towards the past.

In the shade of a palm tree,

I parked my wheelchair,

closed my eyes,

and kept rolling,

a thousand paths,

diverging,

converging,

never,

ever,

ending.

At a bus stop I sat,

adjusted my hat,

and rested my bones,

the oldest bones I've ever had.

It was the year

1986, 2012, 2056…

I can't be sure.

As seasons blurred,

I learned to walk,

and later run.

We had pissing contests,

under an old fig tree,

upon which the fate of the world rested.

From a doorway I watched,

waiting patiently for my children to return,

and on a bicycle I rode,

a road I knew led home,

and home,

and home.

I hopped a puddle on an dirty dirt road,

turned 14,

and fell in love for the rest of my life.

Later that day,

the road was paved,

I lost my job,

and hitched a ride out of there,

on an old man's tractor.

When the afternoon shadows stretched longest,

I boarded a bus,

and moved to a city.

I sold cotton candy on the street,

collected garbage,

played competitive foosball,

worked for the government as a spy,

married a pirate's daughter,

and retired in a beautiful mansion.

One night,

on a street corner,

I bought and sold myself,

in a deal of deals,

only to disappear,

and wake up here,

seated high up in a bus,

whirling down this old old road,

where I lived before,

and will live and love and leave and begin,

a thousand times over again.

These photos were taken on my iPhone over the course of a 5 hour bus ride from Domnical in Southern Costa Rica, up to San Jose in the North. I had no intention when boarding the bus, of doing anything other than napping, and perhaps reading a bit. As it was, I never fell asleep or picked up my book, and instead watched and was drawn into a feeling of connection and curiousity towards the life and world around me that led to these photos.