Every month I run into the same problem: I try and think of a new thing or things to say about a reading that goes basically on the same trajectory from month to month. Maybe this month I'll try metaphors, some of which may or may not explain the general ambiance of that room on that day when we're all sitting in it:
-Dramamine is used to prevent nausea and when the ocean is far from our heads we feel sad.
-Fireflies in a field appear as strange landing pads for the kinds of birds that don't exist or won't land.
-The oranges are in a bowl. The bowl is on the table. We cannot eat them. If we do it will no longer be summer. They rot. It is still summer. It is about to snow.
