The Urban Sherpa keeps a collection of stories and curios filed under Mythic Proportions.
Everywhere You Go, There You Aren't 
You wake up before the alarm and you're completely disoriented: the
way the light comes through the window makes you think you're in that
apartment you had in Santa Monica, all those years ago. When you come
to, you head to a coffee shop down the street, which reminds you of
one you visited a few times in Berkeley. Later that morning, you stroll
through a park, a copse of trees that looks a lot like a section of
Valley Forge, near where you grew up, and that bend in the stream reminds
you of another spot, in Westchester County.
That afternoon, you're
riding in a friend's car, suffering deja vu from a road trip somewhere
in Arkansas, and you pull into a parking lot that strikes you as looking
oddly like one you visited in Phoenix. Your destination, a grocery
store, is laid out exactly like the one you used in Ithaca, New York.
Finally, you get your bearings in Harvard Square, a place that looks,
thankfully, like Harvard Square, but as you look around, you're nostalgic
for another time, ten years ago, when you and some good friends spent
a summer here. You duck into a movie theatre—escapism from all
of the escapism you've been feeling—and once the lights go down,
thankfully, you could be anywhere. You could be nowhere. By the time
the movie is over, you sincerely have no idea where you are...

