where_the_light_comes_from raze i don't know where the light comes from, but every night it bounces off a bedroom window on the top floor of the house across the street from mine, and the way it kisses the glass makes it look like something else. something that's alive. fireflies. first there are two. then i step to the right and there are three more, bending themselves into focus. they never get all the way there. it's like when you're crying and you know what's in front of you. you're looking at a face, or a hand, but the tears make it a ghost of itself and take it away from you. i'm not crying. i'm watching five fireflies trapped inside a pane of glass. there's magic all around you. all you have to do is open your eyes. 211109 what's it to you? who go blather from