I think it comes down to perspective. I have yet to percieve which one I’m existing in. I’ll get back to you on that.
However, it could be argued that if I’m even pondering which state I inhabit, it must be transitional. I don’t know that limbo is really conduscive to consideration of forward movement.

It could also be argued that limbo just is, whereas transition is about to be. And since I just am, regardless of who or what or where or when I am about to be, is it possible I could be occupying both states at once?

In a transitive limbo? Which could certainly refer to me being unable to fully “move in” i.e ‘unpack’ until my utterly and disgustingly well loved but rarely cleaned living room carpet is replaced with a wood floor. As a result there are boxes in the kitchen, spare room, my room in anticipation of the day they will be unpacked. The living room lies in wait of the day it will have furniture, perhaps even a nice rug that doesn’t stretch all the way across the room which has an actual name that I’ve forgotten for some reason.

Limbic transit? Hmm, that seems to indicate that my paleomammelian brain parts are shifting. New synaptic pathways are being cleared for a whole new realm of emotional experience. Which certainly fits, given that I’ve had a fairly life changing event happen recently, what with the father figure I liked best dancing nimbly from this mortal coil. Regardless of the time I had to prepare, regardless of how pragmatic I feel about death in general, there’s still a…see, I don’t know what there is. I don’t have words for it yet. Which I find a little confusing, because of how impressively verbose I can be about most things. Maybe it’s because while I see death as inevitable, I don’t really understand it, what with me being alive and all.

So I’ll finish today with a random quote by George Bernard Shaw which has a moderate amount of relevance when taken in concert with my last post or any future post regarding my desire to affect change in the world?

“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.”

And those who know me best, know how maddeningly unreasonable I can be, so perhaps there’s hope yet.

Until the next darlings, I’ll keep the rainy days at bay with those umbrellas of Cherbourg..watching a young Catherine Deneuve and Nino Castelnuovo fall in love and sing for a couple of hours doesn’t hurt either… yes I loves me some musicals. Bon soir mes cheries.