I often find myself stopping for things that take me elsewhere. It could be the sight of a plane taking off from a nearby airport that will remind me of a specific childhood memory — when I used to play outside of our house and wave to the airplanes passing so high overhead thinking my father is boarded in one of them—, a name of an author that reminds me of an old love, a word, an object, a particular 7-Eleven store, and among other things that take me out of the event of my being. Most of the time, I must take a moment to catch my breath before realizing what is happening. However, the moment I had of elsewhere had already passed after I caught my breath.