I woke up this morning, and I didn't know where I was. Just for a second. That's probably the most disquieting way to come out of a silent sleep; waking up, and not knowing where you are. Even just for a split second, only until the next time you blink and bring everything back into focus. I live in a city where, for all of us, no place is quite home. I've slept on a number of couches, in weather too cold, and nights too hot, when the walk feels like too much to bare. I have an address, though it goes mostly unused. Here at home, in a room where I've been falling asleep since I needed the light, in a bed that used to feel like an island, I just feel big, disoriented. I used to be swallowed, and now I just sink. Down. Too deep. So, I googled 'what's it called when you wake up and you don't know where you are' and all I came up with were some movie scripts and a Myley Cyrus song.