ten. text.
Some guy behind me in the grocery store starts talking to me about dark matter. He has these big half-moon glasses, thick as though from the seventies, and he doesn't break eye contact because he can tell I want to. He starts saying how 80% of this universe is invisible, that's 19.2 hours in a 24 hour day, and then he goes on to tell me his great idea, his great vision that "imports" are somehow responsible. (I am an orante rug, perfect for use in your living space. I am chocolate mixed with foreign ingredients you can't pronounce.) That we make up the weight.
"Google" tells me this is bullshit, O Wonderful Information Age, and that dark matter really only makes up 25% of the universe. 70% is "dark energy." 5% is the normal stuff.
Whatever. I'm not a physicist.
The point is, there's a lot more than meets the eye.
I said something when I first came here, some cliche (yes, cliche) phrase about men dreaming they're butterflies dreaming they're men. I wondered if this City was the next level. I wondered if I was even here. Now I wonder, am I the man? Or am I the dream?
I'm losing track of some very basic things.
Answer me this, City. If I'm fictional, do I really need a paycheck?
imagine all the people
living for today
"Google" tells me this is bullshit, O Wonderful Information Age, and that dark matter really only makes up 25% of the universe. 70% is "dark energy." 5% is the normal stuff.
Whatever. I'm not a physicist.
The point is, there's a lot more than meets the eye.
I said something when I first came here, some cliche (yes, cliche) phrase about men dreaming they're butterflies dreaming they're men. I wondered if this City was the next level. I wondered if I was even here. Now I wonder, am I the man? Or am I the dream?
I'm losing track of some very basic things.
Answer me this, City. If I'm fictional, do I really need a paycheck?
imagine all the people
living for today