Dirt Dirigible- Duplo is for Babies

I'm trying to be grateful for the friends who did stick around this year.

I'm trying to view things less in a binary of "you're near to me" or "you're far away from me."

Love is unlimited, but humans are limited. Our hearts only have the capacity to carry so much. It is our containers that only exist as a certain size.

So we grieve those whom we had to ask to depart. We hope that maybe some of them will return. But we're unattached in that moment. Not  uncaringly. Just....in the middle of some existence that feels neutral. Maybe Zen.

The Reverend Kinky Flashlight would be proud.

Night Town is quiet and empty sometimes. And the darkness makes us feel small and alone, though we're not.

The remedy to this condition is false intimacy. Or is it? Screens. Bubbles. Meshes. Membranes.

Then you find yourself someplace, ten years later saying "I don't think I remember how to do this anymore. " We don't think we remember much of it at all.

I know how to put my roots into the earth and listen to the trees. I don't know how to understand these humans with their dramas.

The music changes. Pulsing me somewhere else. I'm a supernova, exploding.  Not like that, you fucking pervs. I'm now the size of three men. The quality, the energy has altered. We're all the size of three men. Ever-expanding. We've come to the dance floor to say something.

All points in time are now one. The dead dance with us here in the now. The corpses of gawking tourists can go rot. We're not your freakshow. You are the dead. We are more alive than you could ever be. But what do I know of you? I'm arrogant, too.

Grief and loneliness are the rootsystems that unite all of humanity. Does the cosmos feel alone? Do Milky Ways want to embrace each other, breathing thousands upon hundreds of thousands iterations of us human-fleas, planetary-ants into and out of the Great Doorway of life? Then crushing us away into nothingness on the in-breath.

So hang the questions in Night Town, in this tiny corner of dirt-dirigible. I would say it was the Twilight Zone, but we're not all that well-dressed. No, this is hyperreal. We are not anybody's unconscious. We are Gd's dream, dream of the ancestors and the Old Ones. Maybe they will create something useful out of us. Flimsy tinker toys. Duplo is for babies. Try to take the pulse of the universe, and we learn that nothing is everything (Skyrizi commercial).