The moon tonight is a thorn in my side. Things are never what they are. That’s the best thing about everything. It’s always everything else. So the moon tonight is a teacher with a bunch of lesson plans about luminescence, receptivity, irrationality, and the wisdom of insanity. But you already knew all that. You did. I swear to God it’s already in there, swimming around inside you like a fish that loves to hide.
We could break all the rules, you know? Tell them all to get fucked and start a bunch of fires. Tip over cars. Take the city by storm. Do you ever feel like a storm? Sometimes I feel like I’m made of thunder and lightning. Never mind all those rumors about blood and muscles and bones. Those are metaphors. We could just as easily be made of thunder and lightning. Rain too. And fireflies that flicker in the dark like ideas.
We say things like I have an idea. But what’s that? A flurry of neurotransmission flashing through your brain, configured in a unique way that creates a new phenomenon that you call an idea. That you have? By what right do YOU claim ownership of involuntary neurotransmission? Aren’t you yourself, the idea of you, a product of this very same neurotransmission that creates the idea you supposedly have? Fireflies, man, flickering in the dark like stars.
See there? Ideas are stars. Thought is finally in the sky where it belongs. It’s not in your head. Never was. When we say things like I have an idea, what we really mean is I have seen a star. There’s so many stars, millions and millions, and none of them care about being right or wrong. A star’s only desire is to burn and shine with the hope of being seen. Did you know that fireflies ignite their flashes of light with the hope of attracting a mate?
Love, like everything, is always everything else. Sure, it might be an illusion created by an excess of dopamine flooding the pleasure pathway, the same thing that happens when you bowl a strike or boot heroin. But it’s also a fish that loves to hide in storms of thunder and lightning. Love can come and go in an instant when a firefly burns a hole in the dark. It shines, it’s seen, and it’s gone. But I think the best kind of love is looking at the stars all night with someone made of rain. So keep looking up. This is what the moon teaches like a thorn in your side. Thorns are found on the stems of roses and a rose is a rose is a kiss.