#196 Starry Starry Night


The moonlit night sky above Prescott, Valley Arizona, twinkles with countless stars as I lie in my hot tub gazing above. Lessons that taught me to believe the stars are heavenly lights winking at me have become fictitious sine I grew to be a man. I now question that and many more of my beliefs.

What if all I see is all make-believe? What if what I see is a hologram projected onto the sky to make me believe I see twinkling stars? How do I know I’m not a puppet in a show? Maybe those lights are nothing but holes in fabric and through them shimmering eyes are looking at me?

Maybe I’m a projection on a screen, watched by those twinkling far-away eyes as though I’m in a zoo. Do they want to see what I’ll do in situations orchestrated for me? Could I be an actor on a stage set just for me? Do projected thoughts cause me to act as I do? Do those far-away eyes like to watch how asinine, atrocious, irate, tender, kind, and loving I can be?  I realize that if my life here is orchestrated, then those minds must be infantile or demented to cause the havoc that goes on around this world. I conclude that if true, the answer is that this world is just a child’s toy.