Backyard path illuminated by LEDs

The treefrogs, how do they call out at night?

A certain set of chirping cheeps, like air burped out of a balloon, a high-pitched “raspberry,” if you will.

Do they intersect with the topics of dark matter and dark energy?

If so, how?

Spinning tunes in the form of blog entries, the writer chooses a new set, taking a different path, away from the ageless love story of Guin and Lee, needing space, distance, time, not wanting to see a certain person’s face in any shape, form or fashion for a while, the relationship of sculptor and model grown cold like a slab of marble in an unlit cave, recalling a song by a band once popular in the Athens, Georgia, bar scene — REM…

The One I Love

This one goes out to the one I love
This one goes out to the one I’ve left behind
A simple prop to occupy my time
This one goes out to the one I love

Fire
Fire

This one goes out to the one I love
This one goes out to the one I’ve left behind
A simple prop to occupy my time
This one goes out to the one I love

Fire (she’s comin’ down on her own, now)
Fire (she’s comin’ down on her own, now)

This one goes out to the one I love
This one goes out to the one I’ve left behind
Another prop has occupied my time
This one goes out to the one I love

Fire (she’s comin’ down on her own, now)
Fire (she’s comin’ down on her own, now)
Fire (she’s comin’ down on her own, now)
Fire (she’s comin’ down on her own, now)

A writer’s choice to say goodbye to the love of one’s life, to end a sweet chapter, a chapter that promised happiness, immortality, space exploration, to return to the laboratory and get away from the anthropocentric attractions which so readily, so easily, grab attention for the sake of that one word pregnant with possibility that we throw around, with and without question…
To know what is there but isn’t there.
To know what is happiness but isn’t.
To be aware of the futility of believing any one life lasts much more than the blink of an eye when one has counted millions and millions of heartbeats in one’s lifetime, surely there is more?
More than this….this…this whatever it is one calls a single life…with all the actions and thoughts that only a human body can experience…
…one moves on, as one has moved on before and will move on again…
…on to the next reference work, the next body of evidence that one is not simply projecting a universe out of some amalgam of sensory data one calls one’s thoughts…
…the continuity of narrative that demonstrates sanity…
…if sanity is a necessary condition for existence in this corporeal state, this set of states of energy that refers back to itself.
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