I've been looking out at the glowing Las Vegas Strip with the moon shining up in the dark sky. From my poolside view, it's like a dream, an electric hallucination. My eyes grow heavy and I'm half-certain that I could flip a switch and turn the whole thing off. In my mind's eye, the neon sputters out as my bella luna dims and the whole scene fades to black.
Lights Out.
I blink open and the light returns, slowly refracting into colors once again inside my mind. That's where it all occurs, you know- it exists inside of our heads. The 'Somewhere Out There' is really inside you, me.
I can almost hear 'Taps' play as I head inside to catch a half-dozen hours of sleep, knowing that the light will return, followed by the colors.
When your eyes take in the essays, or you hear my material read onstage or listen on the radio, please know that I'm trying hard to get into your noodle. I am.
I want to be that thing you wrap your head around.
Another William wrote it better than I ever will, although I Will keep trying:
I've been doing my best to give "an airy nothing, a local habitation and a name" to what I feel.
Breathe it in, sing it out.
Not to get all Peter Frampton on you, but 'I'm In You.' You're in me.
When you send a request, or reply, I am never more excited to let you in.
That's what really lights me up.
.
