Sleeping in a Catholic high school, Nowrogord, Poland

Looking through the monotonous forest full of light I have a vision.

It is of nothing, and of how nothing has grown and grown through the centuries.

How the trees know the storm is coming before I do, and the animals. How birds are first to know and before the birds the wind, and before the wind the clouds, and before the clouds the storm itself.

No, I'm wrong, it's not nothing, it's all there is in the world at this very moment, every ounce of its all-ness, wearing nothingness like a garment of disguise and slipping the garment onto every living being so that they believe they are living in a world that has meaning and can go on with their lives.