I live my life between moments in time

The other day as I was heading out I noticed a weird looking camera on a poll outside my building. It looked like a Flock camera. It wasn't, but it looked quite a bit like one—unsettlingly so. This morning on my way back I noticed the camera again. Time passed between these two moments, but in the moment itself, they felt the same, like time had collapsed on a point. I notice the same thing when I go to bed. I lay down, I stare at the ceiling, and I think about how I did the same thing last night, how I'll do the same thing tomorrow. [[ Displacement Equals Zero ]] Every year I go visit my parents over the holidays. I don't really like travel; I didn't grow up doing much travelling and since I moved out I've always had this strange sense that the whole thing was unreal. You get on the plane, you feel sick for around twelve hours, and then all of a sudden, it's as though the world you left as you got on the plane ceased to exist, or ceased to have ever existed. It feels a bit like a…