it is probably worth mentioning that there is a fifteen month old sleeping just two or three meters away, who is desperately unable to use words to communicate what must be the ambitions of a poet, a madwoman, or a superhero. i write this because it is amazingly obvious to me now that we all develop these incredibly vast mental worlds as younglings, vast mental universes grown so quickly, as if analogous to the cosmic inflation after the big bang, that a person could spend fifteen minutes trying to climb into a chair, and then radiantly satisfied with success at such an endeavor, slip out of the chair to do exactly the same thing. the fact of the matter is that chairs are worth climbing, and we forget this as we age because we spend more and more of our time thinking about food, sex, and status, as good mammals do, to procreate our genes.

i should indicate here that there is a very sad lack of other inhabited planets in the solar system with which to listen to cosmic perspectives on matters such as this, but, in general, clouds of condensing water vapor are beautiful, as are the colors of oxidized ore, and the iridescences of insect exoskeletons and bird feathers. if a creator existed, he or she would needs have such an incredible fixation with asteroid impacts, helium, and vast empty voids between things. i know that such a being cannot conceivably exist, in any state resembling a human intelligence, because of simple everyday observations like magnetars and seaweed.