i realized that i wasn't like the other owls early on. i noticed how my eyes wouldn't shut to the light, and i never asked "who?" i asked "why?" because i was always alone.

i never wanted to be like others. but i wanted to be like something. so i rooted like trees, or pretending to pop my head off like a daisy, or twinkling like the stars or smelling sweetly like basil. i played like fingers on the piano, burrowed like a field mouse and rotted like old wood. i burst like the warm air from a whale's blowhole hitting the cold hair and vaporizing, like breathe, like "i'm smoking!".

yeah i rode the rainbow for some time because i could because i'm lucky. but i'm still up in the morning, grinning so sweetly as the grass shakes off its shower and everyone else is sleeping, snoring their questions away.

then i saw something, so completely insane, i can't tell you what it is. you'll have to see it for yourself. it is what should be a sea of leaves, but it is dim, like old tv.

and now i know that i don't have to be like all the other nocturnal creatures. but i don't have to be like the daytime ones either, or the ones inbetween. my skin is like a map. i will read it softly to you, so you too, will know.