Expectantly Awaiting My Own Arrival

This is a curious feature of the john douglas experience. Questions swirl about a schizophrenic consciousness split by space and time, questions for the most part arrising from the impending arrival of the other half of my own psyche. Imagine waiting for half your mind to turn up in the post - like a mail order encyclopedia which decided to order and deliver itself.

i am simultaneously in motion and stationary.

There is no question that i, john douglas, exist - these ramblings and images are evidence of that. However, the questions which swirl about like insecure vultures do have some bearing on my continued existence. What will have become of the dialogue i have had with myself? Will i be happy where i am? How will my friends and i get along? Will i have grown a beard in my travels and/or procrastination? (i have an inherent distrust of beards which requires no explanation).

i'm sure john and douglas will be fine, but wish me luck anyway.