Went to Baltimore this weekend to hang out at the Inner Harbor and take in an Orioles-Red Sox game on Sunday. Weekend road trips rule the roost.

I was last in Maryland at the end of May to spend Memorial Day weekend with three friends from school. They all live in Boston and flew down – I’m four hours closer than they by car, so I just drove down from Long Island.

I figured it’d take four to five hours.

Nine hours later, I was delirious and about to cross the state line from Delaware to Maryland, on my way first to the airport in Salisbury, MD and then to Ocean City.

–I think it was precisely because I was driving for nine hours with only one short break for a meal that I lost my mind near the end there. I had been singing along with music most of the way but towards the tail end of Delaware I had taken to telling myself jokes and laughing out loud at them and and and it’s good to lose it every so often.

Anyway, in this hyperconscious haze, I approached a road perpendicular to the one that I was on. This other road traced the state line, to the point that it was called something like “State Line Boulevard” that I can’t remember and won’t look up until later. I was at a red light, still speaking in tongues to no one in particular, gearing up for crossing this awesome threshold from a state with tax-free shopping into a state that wasn’t Delaware.

Light turned green. I held my breath as if it were a space launch, and then…I crossed the state line.

And…nothing happened.

I was and wasn’t disappointed.

The fluidity of the crossing made me consider that most of those things that I’ve considered “boundaries” or “borderlines” are in fact the invisible seams of one huge fabric of reality, and that partitions thereof are constructs of a provincial human imagination more interested in survival via “territoreality” than in the oneness of all.

Of course, I was delirious then, so.

As you were.