And not a moment too soon,
For there comes a text
Bidding me, unspoken, to participate in a physical encounter
But also, even more unspoken, to participate in an instance of reality in disharmony with my own
It tugs at the fabric, like a massive object.
Typically it goes like so:
Clarity is restored
And though I’m back in the peaceful vacuum
My hull is singed, bits of trim yanked off by the foray into the atmosphere.
But not this time
Thanks in part (ironically) to this lurid hyperreal universe that exists within our own
As outrageous yet inevitable as blinking billboards on passing asteroids
Clarity is restored,
And now that I think about it,
Staying in is sounding better and better.