The movie you're in is this one. You see a lot. Walking through half-dark rooms, the bird chiming outside, a soundtrack of early morning, the movement of the cat on the cot near the books by the window, are these related? No idea. The windows throwing faint light into the vast angles of each perspective. Come on, this isn't real. You don't think of anything except how pictures with frames, even cinema, has nothing on this, what you inhabit every second, sense, swim, feel, dark, and thinking of the poem I almost forgot. The almost imperceptible room, rooms, rooms. What did I forget? What didn’t I see? I believe I heard everything. If creation must be created all at once--- for efficiency's sake the only way reality can be real--- no will, we are a reel--- I thought maybe one box inside another, rattling around, gives us the feeling of free will? What a great movie, anyway, I'm guessing.
