I spread the documents across the bed.
Passport. Bank ID. Personal Number. National ID. EU Residence Permit.
Muscle. Marrow. Bone.
I self-diagnose. I am suffering from a disease of chronic disappearances. Lived in cracks.
Some part of me fights to stay aware of a life before Sofie's Mountain.
In journals I try to describe the feeling of two selves parting as sediment layers in a soil test do. The settling of indistinct dirt brown acquiring character. The gradations appearing first as bands of light, dark.
Coarse, fine.
Like tea leaves. Like geomancy.
All lived material with no metaphor or meaning.