#solenoid

I have always wondered whether everyone’s interior life is as exhaustingly complicated as mine, if everyone is placed, like a white mouse, in the middle of their labyrinthine mind, through which they have to find a path, just one, the true one, while all the others lead to traps with no escape.

Under my dictatorship it would be law that any piece of media that wants to decide It's All About Love (in an interpersonal relationship sense*) at the end has to have had the dynamics this message is based on as one of its strongest most well-written aspects until that point.

@mistermalaprop, @smoked-salmon-official, @smokey-prime9000 I have an idea for a big redfire children adventure!!!

"I have often thought I should go back to that neighborhood, where I spent my childhood among the sweetness of roses taller than me, reading on the windowsill with my legs hanging out. I thought I could go see the street with the musician’s name, the grocery, the militia station, and the clinic, not realizing you can’t revisit the imaginary neighborhood dug into the soft stone of your mind, but only the one made of brick, debris, and plaster, the one with the chestnuts that indifferently bear their spiny fruits in autumn. The neighborhoods of childhood exist nowhere on Earth. And still, I said to myself more than once: I should go there anyway. I should use the present-day buildings, clouds, and trees to project shadows onto my unshielded, sensitive brain, and perhaps in the play of their shadows I will recognize something from that time."