“So what becomes of us when we close our eyes? When we dream? And when we fall past our dreams into that darkness of nothing? What are we when we blink? A bright light flashes, and our lids close. Be not afraid. Yet we die in the light. I think our souls must long for darkness, the assurance of darkness, the comfort, the hiding place, to be like it, to be nothing, to be invulnerable as nothing. But the light still stings our eyes.”
“Dude, I haven’t had breakfast yet. Can your existential crisis wait for a cup of coffee?”
Tale Told 