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.
