Disorientation

A brief entry today about disorientation: I'm starting to enjoy the feeling, somewhat, of looking up from my book at a segment of street seen from the bus window, and not knowing where I am. I believe the initial panic has roots in the past where on many occasions, I've flown past my bus stop unknowingly or even worse, taken the wrong bus. There's also a hint of being on the bus for the first time, and making my eyes and brain ache trying to pick out some clue that tells me I'm on the right track and will get where I am going. This disorientation in micrositu (TM (c) patent pending) I believe to the byproduct of 1) reading while moving and 2) a limited view from the bus that either presents not enough information or the same information from a slightly new angle, such that it's not instantly recognized and placed in context. With respect to the former reason, being lost in the pages of a book will often warp the reader's sense of time, and hence sense of distance travelled. This may produce a personal information gap, the brain not able to determine if I am on the wrong route, have gone too far along the route, or gone not far enough along the route.

I think also it is old age and senility setting in early.