Petty Acts of Rebellion

when the assault on reason, and the appeal to emotion
is constant, beleaguering, and belabored;
when the supremacy of the immediate reaction
is unchallenged by the forces of the almighty algorithm;
in an age when analysis and critical thinking
are dismissed and disparaged and reviled;
stopping to sit quietly, contemplatively,
to simply watch the snow fall against a backdrop of trees,
to attempt to define and craft an honest emotional response to such a moment,
is almost an act of rebellion.

Dreams, a commentary (No. 1)

Dreams, eh?  They’re just stories, right?  Stories your own brain tries to tell you while you aren’t paying attention.  They don’t really mean anything.  That’s what you’ve got to tell yourself.  Over and over, you’ve got to tell yourself that, that they don’t mean anything.  You have to.  Because if they did actually mean something.  If those stories your own mind was trying to tell you while you weren’t paying attention, if *those* stories meant anything, anything at all….