I M the doorway. My knob, you twist it, no?

 

A bulb in the gloom, innervated.  It is as much a part of the gloom as it is antithetical to the gloom.

In the branching and uncertain illumination, we may see hints of our own interaction with the universe, action-reaction, the branched-chain, string theory.  As such, if Timmy and the boy eat popsicles, does this course us, re-invouch as to the Mikl?

Can we make an inference on that good MKL?

Can we ever?

Look far from the dull glow of the single bulb, to the edge of the wood, where the frog sits in an uncertain moonglow.  But his eyes, his eyes have a fleck of brilliance which seems just as transcoursical as that one singular bulb.

Almost interstellar, like moon glow, star glow, across the heavens, the void, the vacuum.

A little medallion of light on the windshield, and inside, contained there is a space filled with darkness.

Ticking of the exhaust cooling as me and Garrett slam a quick 18 in the Hooters.  Oh the Titties.  We beat back that darkness with our stupid comments against the universe, forever against and none for, as we know, those Titties will never brush our sleeve.

We must find piece,

and ladies of the night.

But even that, does it last?  Can we say, without getting stabbed, we want our 40 dollars back?  Back the time I've vomit back out the nights get and lost my vim and vitality to the back seat, resting in a kind of risen frazzle of the stomach lining, I could wonder, "Garret is many years from legally driving a car"?

And yet.

There are construction cones wedged under the car, making a throaty scrape against the tarmac, and I don't think to blame myself or Garrett, but I blame an uncertain universe.  And you would think in that, that I blame God for that?

Alas not, but Garrett's impulse towards rushing headlong into manhood, pretending to be 17 on Facebook, claiming he works at Zaxby's and volunteers in the church, all the while posting selfies of his pre-adolescent self getting a pitcher of beer poured on him by a hostess in retaliation for his touchy-feely behaviors.

Somewhere in the experience is our own realization of God's hand at work in what seems chaos, and uncertainty, and a thread in the fear, uncertainty and doubt, is in fact, sure, diligent and working in perfect sense towards its own end, but not at all exclusively in service to that end.

Perhaps just more mindful of the moment than any sort of conclusion.