- I am in a hotel room, lying in bed, unable to sleep, counting the lights on the ceiling, bulbs screwed into sockets placed into the ceiling, shining like stars. I count fifteen bulbs evenly spaced, five rows of three bulbs evenly spaced across the width of the ceiling.
- The bulbs all aglow, the fifteen bulbs evenly spaced in five rows across the width of the ceiling, I doze off, only to awake once more, noticing the bulbs like stars placed in the ceiling.
- I count them again, and, in a sudden change of perception, noticing now three rows of five bulbs evenly spaced running along the length of the ceiling, same fifteen bulbs now in three rows running along the length of the ceiling.
- I shift my perception across the width, along the length asking myself, “Shall I scream?”
- Instead I settle on shifting my perception, observing the five rows of three bulbs across the width of the ceiling, three rows of five bulbs running along the length of the ceiling, same fifteen bulbs shining like stars on the length and width of same ceiling, five rows of three bulbs across the width of the ceiling, three rows of five bulbs running along the length of the ceiling..
- I doze off, asking myself what does it mean to know more than I know, feeling like I am galloping in the unknown space between possibility and necessity. Waking once again, I realize my galloping changes and remains the same, galloping in the space between knowing and experiencing.
- Waking once more, wondering what does experience mean, what does to experience refer to, I allow myself the action, actually getting up, turning off the lights, just a flip of the switch, leaving no glimpse of what will be my next experience, no glimpse in answer to the question: when does the story become the whole story?