Jupiter

I had a dream that Luna restaurant had no visitors and all the waiters were standing around looking anxious, trying not to look at the entrance, trying not to look at the people that weren’t coming. All the lights were off and I had this sad, doomed feeling that the restaurant was going to close. But then I remembered that I’ve never seen the restaurant that way. In fact, it’s almost impossible to get a table, especially now during high season. Sometimes the entire restaurant is reserved and closed for weddings or other parties, and they have beautiful white curtain tents and lights that sparkle and reflect the sunset colors the way light gets reflected in the eyes of someone generous. There’s always people. It’s always full. It’s never concerned. I think about the nature of truth. In my dream, it’s true that a restaurant could run out of business. It’s possible because it’s the definition of being a restaurant. But what is truth, really? You see that the restaurant is full every day. Maybe tomorrow it won’t be full, but today it is full, and every time I visit, it is full. So is truth based on a possibility? Or is it something more simple, even if it can’t be proved?

The reality of the restaurant seems to contradict logic. Perhaps it’s not even possible for it to go out of business. 

There are people who insisted not to love me and there are people who insisted that they do. Which is true? There is a claim that it is possible that I will never be loved. I was told to prepare for it. But that day never comes and so I try to prepare even harder. Exasperated, I start to wonder if it is even possible.

You prepare to disappear. Every step closer to the truth you hold your breath and expect to be erased like a drawing. You consider yourself abandoned like an unfinished drawing of god. But every day you perceive yourself again and the drawing is more complete than yesterday. Now there are outlines, now there are colors. You don’t think or speak the way normal people speak. The ideas don’t connect correctly, you wonder if it’s true. It’s not human. Jupiter, the mind of gods. What philosopher can explain the logic of sadness turning into laughter? A smile that appears out of nowhere when we are alone?