Everything feels like a dream right now. Everywhere I look, I can't help but to imagine myself, or an alternate version of myself, existing in conjunction and in some variant way with whatever happens to live in my field of view - trees and houses, sidewalk and sky, dirt and moonlight; the muffled sound of a distant conversation, and footsteps; a barking dog. I'm imagining myself embedded within the swath of influence that these things have shaped and formed as the phenomenon of existence flows over, across, and around them... like a glacier of time-like entropy winding a path of consequences through a mountain range of causal events; splitting and merging and splitting, and merging again. And I'm aware of how magical it feels to be both an old friend and a complete stranger to myself.
Dang. I sure as heck don't know where all that came from.