I got unstuck from space-time, but only in a sensory sort of way. Not really unstuck physically. Because I can't even imagine what that would be like. I've done it metaphysically, spiritually, and psychologically and a few other allys I might mention.
First, as I left work, staring across the street to the Marriott, the light drizzle dabbling at being rain, blackening the pavement, suddenly transported me to the lot of a Denny's restaurant in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. I've never been to Florida, but who am I to argue with what my senses tell me?
That's a rhetorical question. That means you don't really have to answer it. But you can if you want to. This IS a free country, after all.
Ah, the sky. Yes, so after leaving Denny's in Florida, I entered my car and drove, and I became unstuck again. This time, I was traveling along an expressway with the purple sky over Tokyo. Everything was bathed in pinks and violets, deep and thick, substantial. Philip K. Dick said God delivered messages to him in a pink laser beam of phosphene. Now imagine most of the sky is filled with it. And it's tangible. Reach out and cut me a slice of neon cotton candy.
Then the sun burst across the horizon like a brimstone demon clawing its way out of hell, and I found myself on Venus at sunrise; the sun too big and too bright, burning away the toxins and impurities of the atmosphere. The sun continued upon its trajectory, the demon eradicating the Venusian meteorological effluence, leaving me with an ordinary Earthling-blue sky.
And I had this thought, how Earth is right in the middle between Mars and Venus, the mythological Man and Woman, the sun and the moon, the yin and the yang, and how everything on Earth, even languages can be broken down to masculine and feminine, binary code, zeros and ones, alpha and omega, cat and dog, Hodge and Podge, Starsky and Hutch. (Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, stuck in the middle with you?)
On a more mundane note, I finished reading The Half-Blood Prince for a second time, and it's still good. I have a metaphorical shit-ton of theories about what’s going on and what’s going to happen. Only two more years to the exciting conclusion. Egads, what will I do?
I've read a few more Terry Pratchett novels. Has he written a book where Vetinari, the Patrician, is the main character? I love how his books overlap and center on different characters, and Vetinari is one of my enigmatic favorites.
I'm now reading The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon. It's a murder mystery where the dead one is the neighbor’s dog and the detective is a fifteen year-old autistic boy. It is amazing and I've only read thirty-eight pages.
This is more than long enough. Oops.
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