Notes from the other side of the wormhole

My brain is in an ordinary place, where I dream of dogs and tomatoes and little saltbox houses from the 1950s. Perhaps this is what contentment looks like. I am, for the most part, surrounded by good people. This is metaphorical, as I live in the fourth circle of hell, somewhere in middle America, USA. Luckily, the world remains a beautiful place filled with hilarious strangers and brilliant books and childhood friends and smeary watercolor sunsets and spicy ginger ale and I love it so much sometimes I cannot bear it. Actually, this might be a parallel universe and the real me is living somewhere else, surrounded by talking chickens and automatons with purple metallic skin. I can't really be sure. This might be the summer of sci fi, as I just finished reading The Sparrow and think it's one of the best novels I've read in a very long time, perhaps ever. I didn't want it to end and it made me want to laugh and hit things and travel to previously unexplored worlds but only if I could hide in the unpopulated forests. Terrifying and beautiful. I watched two really fabulous movies last week: The Man From Earth and Moon. Highly recommended. I want to spend more time pondering the nature of reality. All is not what it seems.