At 2AM when it’s quiet and the delineations fade and compartments die, unconfined, metaphors become clearer when I look up at the stars and planets I can’t identify.
I asked a friend what he thought that big star might be that comes out over the condominiums across the street at night. “Uranus,” he said — haha!
Heaven Hell God the Devil. In a muted way I believe every bit of it.
In bed at night, I imagine the mechanism in our brains that we have for survival that inspires us to be so colorful — the intuition that warns us in hyperbolic ways that shouldn’t really be taken so goddamned literally. Nevertheless, they mean something–all the symbols.
For now, I like not knowing what that star or planet over the condominium is.