Born again. Another day. Regenerated, cells reprised.
Always. Change. Still. Constant.
Sleep is our exile: from birth to exile.
In our dreams we perform twice-hourly spacewalks to retrieve (several) film cassettes.
The purpose of this lonely circling rendezvous is to move and shake in mystical states, in anticipation of the cliffhanger scene when we forget our safe world in the lonely circle and fail to return from our dreams.
How quickly the lighted taper of our existence burns to vapor, as we fade to black on Earth’s surface.
Return home to our seedpods, in a distant sky with different stars. Far from the astronomer’s gaze.
With our Earth eyes disabled, we use transcendental meditation to put the finishing touches to our minds.
At the time of writing, our film is Untitled.