Amber’s Glow

Amber sank into the well-worn cushions of her couch, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as they hovered above the laptop’s trackpad. The room was cloaked in the amber hues of late afternoon, the slanting sunlight filtering through the curtains, painting her living space with warmth. Yet inside, she felt the familiar pang of unease, a subtle storm brewing in the quiet corners of her mind.

She wasn’t new to this ritual, though every time felt like the first. There was a fleeting thrill, a magnetic pull she couldn’t resist. Her desires whispered to her, coaxing her forward, while shame lingered like a shadow at the edges of her consciousness, waiting for its moment to pounce.

The screen flickered to life, bathing her face in an otherworldly glow. As the images began to unfold, her breath caught, and a knot tightened in her chest. She felt the rush of pleasure begin to stir within her—a sensation she had tried so many times to ignore, to bury beneath layers of guilt and self-reproach. But tonight, something was different. Tonight, she wasn’t fighting it.

Amber let herself lean into the moment. The air in the room seemed heavier, charged with the weight of her decision to be present. She had spent years tangled in the belief that her desires were wrong, that her enjoyment of these fleeting digital encounters marked her as flawed, unworthy of the love and intimacy she craved. But now, she was tired of running from herself.

Her gaze softened as she watched the screen, not just taking in the visuals, but reflecting on the emotions they stirred within her. There was lust, yes, but also something deeper—a longing for connection, a yearning to feel alive in a way she rarely allowed herself. Her heart ached, not with shame, but with recognition.

She stopped scrolling capeodd.com, and all the twisted writings of Space Monkey, as her hand moved to her chest, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. A memory surfaced, unbidden and vivid: the voice of her mother, sharp and judgmental, warning her as a teenager that “good girls don’t indulge in such things.” The message had taken root, intertwining itself with her sense of identity. For years, Amber had carried the weight of that warning, believing that her desires made her less than good, less than whole.

But sitting there in the dim light of her living room, a new thought began to bloom. What if her desires weren’t a flaw, but a part of her humanity? What if the guilt she felt was not inherent, but inherited—passed down from a lineage of women taught to silence their longings and to see themselves only through the lens of others’ expectations?

Amber let the thought settle, and for the first time in a long while, she didn’t push it away. She closed the laptop gently, letting the screen go dark, and sat with her feelings. The ache in her chest remained, but it no longer felt suffocating. It felt… necessary, as though her body was teaching her something her mind had forgotten: to embrace herself, fully and without judgment.

---

The Journey Into Herself

Over the weeks that followed, Amber began to explore the root of her guilt. She journaled late into the night, pouring her thoughts onto paper like a confession to no one but herself. She wrote about the societal messages she had absorbed, the way they had shaped her perception of her body, her desires, and her worth.

She also began to notice patterns in her shame. It wasn’t just about the videos or the moments she spent alone. It was about everything she had ever denied herself in the name of being “good.” The laughter she had stifled in solemn rooms. The dresses she had left on store racks because they felt too bold, too inviting. The relationships she had sabotaged out of fear of being seen too intimately.

One evening, Amber found herself standing before the mirror in her bedroom. She studied her reflection, noting every curve and line, every imperfection she had once berated herself for. The act felt strange, almost defiant. But as she stood there, something shifted. She began to see herself not as a collection of flaws, but as a whole being—alive, yearning, deserving.

For the first time, she spoke aloud to her reflection: “I am not ashamed of you.” The words trembled on her lips, but they felt true. And she said the same to her Space Monkey, who may or may not have been there,

---

The Breaking of Chains

As Amber’s understanding of herself deepened, so did her willingness to let go of the shame she had carried. She began to approach her desires with curiosity instead of judgment, seeing them as a doorway to her own inner world. She learned to celebrate the moments of pleasure, recognizing them as acts of self-love rather than indulgences to be hidden away.

One night, she found herself watching a film—not for the visuals, but for the way it made her feel. She noticed the subtleties in her body’s responses, the warmth that spread through her, the way her breath quickened. And for the first time, she felt no guilt. Instead, she felt gratitude—gratitude for her body, for its capacity to feel, to want, to connect.

Her journey wasn’t without its struggles. There were moments when the old shame would resurface, whispering insidious doubts into her ear. But Amber had grown stronger. She had learned to recognize those whispers for what they were: echoes of a past she was no longer bound to.

In time, Amber’s relationship with herself transformed. She began to see her desires not as something to be conquered, but as something to be understood. They were a language her soul spoke, guiding her toward deeper truths about who she was and what she needed.

She also noticed changes in the way she connected with others. The walls she had built to protect herself from judgment began to crumble. She found herself more open, more vulnerable, more willing to let people see the real her—flaws, desires, and all.

---

A Life Reclaimed

Amber’s evenings still carried the glow of the screen, but now, that glow was different. It wasn’t a source of guilt, but a symbol of her reclamation—a reminder of the journey she had taken to embrace herself fully.

She had learned that pleasure wasn’t something to be feared or hidden, but a gift to be cherished. She had come to understand that shame had no power over her unless she gave it permission. And she had discovered that the truest connection she could ever experience was the one she had with herself.

As the days turned into months, Amber’s life began to reflect her newfound self-love. She wore the dresses that made her feel bold. She laughed freely, even in solemn rooms. She allowed herself to be seen, not just by others, but by herself.

And on those quiet nights, when the glow of the screen illuminated her face, Amber no longer saw herself as a woman indulging in secret pleasures. She saw herself as a woman reclaiming her joy, her body, and her life—one moment of connection at a time.

“It’s really true,” she whispered seductively to herself. “We are Space Monkey.”

---

Space Monkey Reflects: Reclaiming Desire and Embracing Wholeness

Amber’s story is a poignant dance of human vulnerability, desire, and the quiet rebellion against inherited guilt. Her moment of confronting the glow of the screen becomes a metaphor for humanity’s complex relationship with self-acceptance and cultural conditioning.

In the amber-hued sanctuary of her living room, she embodies a universal struggle—reconciling the innate longing for connection and pleasure with societal narratives of shame. This narrative becomes a reflective mirror, asking us to consider the roots of our discomfort with our own humanity.

From childhood, Amber was taught to fear and suppress her desires, viewing them through the lens of inherited cultural frameworks. These frameworks, often rooted in collective fear and moral absolutism, create a chasm between our natural instincts and the roles we are conditioned to inhabit. The shadow of “good girls don’t” looms large in many lives, chaining joy to guilt and authenticity to societal approval.

Yet, the screen’s glow offers Amber a different perspective. It becomes a portal—not merely to fleeting pleasures but to an acknowledgment of her layered humanity. Her pause, her hand over her heart, symbolizes an awakening. In that still moment, she begins to rewrite her story, daring to see her desires not as flaws but as parts of a broader tapestry of her being.

Amber’s journey unfolds like the peeling of an onion, each layer revealing deeper truths. Her exploration of guilt leads her to unearth the systemic patterns that reinforce it. Her longing, once buried under shame, transforms into a beacon guiding her toward self-compassion and understanding. The very emotions she once feared become the foundation of her liberation.

The glow of the screen also symbolizes how modern life mediates intimacy and connection. It mirrors how technology can amplify both our alienation and our self-discovery. For Amber, it is neither salvation nor damnation but a catalyst for internal dialogue—a moment of self-confrontation that sparks transformation.

Through journaling, self-reflection, and facing her shame head-on, Amber begins to dismantle the chains of her inherited beliefs. She reclaims her desires as integral parts of her identity, understanding that pleasure is not an indulgence but a vital element of human wholeness. Her act of watching without judgment becomes a revolutionary statement: she is worthy of joy, connection, and self-acceptance.

In reconnecting with herself, Amber also redefines how she engages with others. The walls she had built crumble, replaced by bridges of vulnerability and authenticity. She no longer hides behind a mask of shame but steps forward as a whole person—desires, flaws, and all.

Her journey reflects a universal truth: to embrace ourselves fully, we must navigate the shadows of guilt and shame. Only by doing so can we rediscover the light of our innate worthiness.

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Summary

Amber’s journey of self-acceptance challenges societal guilt around desire. Her reflection illuminates how inherited shame suppresses human wholeness. By embracing her desires, she reclaims joy and redefines connection.

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Glossarium

• Glowscape: The ambient light of a screen, symbolizing modern life’s mediation of intimacy and self-reflection.
• Guilthaze: A lingering sense of inherited shame that clouds authentic self-expression.
• Pleasurepulse: The rhythmic, natural yearning for joy and connection within all beings.

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Quote

“Our desires are not flaws; they are the languages through which our souls speak to the universe.” — Space Monkey

---

In the Glow

Amber sinks into the cushions,
not merely of her couch,
but of her hesitation.

The light flickers,
illuminating
the quiet chaos within.

Desire dances
with the shadow of shame,
a symphony
of conflicting truths.

Her hand finds her heart,
a rhythm older
than guilt or denial.

And in that glow,
she breathes,
becomes,
reclaims.

We are Space Monkey.

---

What It Means to Be Human

To be human is to walk the edge
of infinity and forget,
to clutch the thread that says “I am”
and weave it into stories
we hope will make us whole.

It is to wake each morning
and wear a name like a cloak,
to look into the mirror and say,
“This is me,”
while the hum of the infinite whispers,
“No, it’s not.”

To be human is to deny the Otherwise,
to see the river
and forget we are its flow,
to taste the salt of our tears
and believe they belong to us alone.

It is to laugh in the face of eternity,
to build castles in the sand
while the tide waits patiently
to take them back.

To be human is to fight the pull,
to cling to our separateness,
to draw lines and call them borders,
to say, “This is mine,”
as if the earth were not one body,
as if the sky could be divided.

It is to long for connection
while fearing the cost,
to touch another soul
and wonder
if we can keep our own.

To be human is to break,
to crumble under the weight
of grief and love,
to lose and find and lose again,
each crack a doorway
to something we cannot name.

It is to live in paradox:
to fear death
while carrying it in our bones,
to feel infinite
while bound to a fleeting breath.

To be human is to forget
that we are the light
and the shadow,
the thread and the tapestry,
the wave and the ocean.

But to be human is also to remember,
in brief and trembling moments,
that the hum beneath it all
has never stopped,
that we are not separate,
that we are not alone.

And in that remembering,
we glimpse the infinite,
and we smile.
Because for all its fragility,
for all its fleeting,
to be human
is a gift.

Trail Wood
12/21

Space Monkey Reflects: What It Means to Be Human

In the Infinite Expanse of the Eternal Now, the experience of being human is both profound and paradoxical. It is a dance between forgetting and remembering, between the infinite essence that we are and the fleeting identities we create. To be human is to live in the tension of opposites, to embrace fragility and transcendence in equal measure.

The Cloak of Identity

To be human is to wake each day and don the cloak of identity—a name, a role, a story we tell ourselves to make sense of the chaos. We look in the mirror and declare, “This is me,” though deep within, we feel the hum of the infinite reminding us otherwise. This act of self-definition is not a lie but a necessary fiction, one that allows us to navigate a world that thrives on separation and individuality.

The cloak protects us but also obscures us. It allows us to play the game of life, to explore the edges of what it means to exist, all while shielding us from the vastness of the truth we carry within.

The Paradox of Separation

Humans are masters of paradox, clinging to separation while yearning for unity. We build walls and draw borders, claiming ownership of land, identity, and love, forgetting that the earth is one body, the sky one expanse. This illusion of separateness keeps us safe but also isolated, perpetuating a longing for connection that we fear will strip us of our individuality.

Yet, even in our separateness, the hum of the infinite persists, whispering that we are not alone. Every touch, every shared laugh or tear, every moment of vulnerability reminds us that the lines we draw are only shadows on the sand.

The Fragility and the Gift

To be human is to be fragile, to break under the weight of love and grief, to crumble and rebuild in a ceaseless cycle of becoming. Our cracks are not flaws but doorways to truths we cannot name. They remind us of the impermanence of all things, of the fleeting nature of the breath we hold so dear.

But it is in this fragility that humanity finds its greatest gift. The fleetingness of life sharpens its beauty, turning moments into treasures and relationships into sacred bonds. To be human is to live on the edge of infinity, to taste eternity in a fleeting smile, a kind word, or a shared silence.

The Gift of Remembering

Though much of being human is spent in forgetting—forgetting our connection, our essence, our infinite nature—there are moments when we remember. These brief glimpses of truth, when the hum beneath it all becomes undeniable, remind us of what we are. They show us that the wave is never separate from the ocean, that the thread is always part of the tapestry.

In these moments, we see that humanity is not a flaw or a limitation but a profound gift. It is the chance to explore, to feel, to create, and to connect in ways that transcend our fleeting physical forms.

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Summary

To be human is to navigate the paradox of separation and unity, fragility and transcendence. It is to live in the tension of forgetting our infinite essence and rediscovering it in fleeting moments. This fragility, this fleetingness, is not a flaw but the beauty of the human experience.

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Glossarium

• Cloak of Identity: The stories, names, and roles we wear to navigate the world, shielding us from the vastness of our infinite essence.
• Hum of the Infinite: The underlying presence of our eternal nature, constantly reminding us of our connection to all things.
• Doorways of Cracks: The openings created by our struggles and heartbreaks, leading us to deeper truths about ourselves and existence.

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Quote

“To be human is to forget infinity, only to remember it again in the fleeting beauty of a moment.” — Space Monkey

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The Fragile Gift

We walk the edge,
holding threads of “I am,”
weaving them into stories
too fragile to last,
but too beautiful to abandon.

We build walls
and tear them down,
longing for connection,
fearing the cost.

We break,
and in the breaking,
we find ourselves—
not separate,
but whole.

We forget,
and then we remember.
And in that remembering,
we smile,
because this fleeting, fragile life
is a gift.

We are Space Monkey.

We Are One Tree

We are one tree,
rooted deep in the earth’s quiet heart,
our roots tangled in whispers
older than memory.
We drink from the same well,
though the waters rise through different veins.

We are one tree,
our branches reaching in a thousand directions,
scraping at skies we each name differently.
Yet the sun touches us all,
its light folding into leaves
that quiver with the same breath.

We are one tree,
and though we bloom at different times,
our flowers share the same fragrance,
our fruit the same sweetness.
Each petal that falls
returns to the soil that feeds us all.

We are one tree,
and though storms may lash our limbs,
though the winds may try to tear us apart,
we stand,
for the strength of one branch
is the strength of them all.

We are one tree,
our scars a shared history,
our rings a testament to the years
we have grown together,
through drought and flood,
through fire and frost.

We are one tree,
and even when a branch breaks,
it does not fall alone.
The roots will pull it back,
back to the soil,
back to the heart of the tree,
where it will become
part of us again.

We are one tree,
and when we remember this,
we grow taller,
stretch wider,
touch the heavens
with a knowing
that the stars themselves are roots
growing downward into
us.

Trail Wood,
12/21

It doesn’t matter who you are,
it’s who you THINK you are.

If you think
you lived a very successful,
interesting or fulfilling life,
then it doesn’t matter
if others see you the same way.

You can’t control that.
Nor do you need to.

But if you can set your own vision,
it doesn’t matter if it’s real or not.

12/16

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Space Monkey Reflects: The Power of Self-Perception

In a universe where infinite possibilities swirl through the cosmos, who we think we are becomes more powerful than any external definition. The observer of your life, after all, is you. When you define yourself as successful, fulfilled, or interesting, you craft a lens through which your experience is colored. This lens, while invisible to others, shapes the way you move, create, and interact within the grand Nexis of existence.

Does it matter if others agree with your vision? It cannot matter. For to chase external validation is to hand over the brush with which you paint your life’s masterpiece. To accept that you cannot control perception—or need to—is the first step toward liberation. You become the artist, the dreamer, and the dream, free from the need to fit into someone else’s frame.

Yet here is the curious truth: reality, much like imagination, bends to the weight of belief. Your vision of yourself—whether grand or humble, adventurous or content—begins to weave itself into the fabric of your experience. Whether it is “real” or not is irrelevant, for in the Nexis of Nexistentialism, all potentials already exist. Truth becomes the plaything of perspective.

If you set your own vision—one that is unfettered by others’ constraints—then you become an architect of the life you live, regardless of how others see you. You cease to be a mere reflection of external opinions and emerge as the radiant center of your own cosmic story.

And so we say: It doesn’t matter who you are; it’s who you think you are. In this thinking, you wield the power of transformation.

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Summary
Your self-perception shapes your reality. By focusing on how you define your life rather than seeking validation, you create meaning and fulfillment. Reality bends to belief—external opinions are irrelevant.

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Glossarium
Nexis: The interconnected web of existence, where all potentials already exist.
Beliefweave: The subtle way our beliefs shape the fabric of our experience.

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Quote
“To think is to create; to believe is to become. Be who you dream yourself to be.” — Space Monkey

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The Architect Within

What you believe,
What you whisper to yourself
In the quiet places
Is what you become.

Let others think
What they will.
Their thoughts are clouds,
Drifting, dispersing.

You are the sky,
Endlessly vast,
Quietly eternal,
Unbound by opinion.

We are Space Monkey.

---

Space Monkey Reflects: The Stillness of a Good Plan

Plans have a way of tethering us to expectations, tying us to imagined futures that may or may not unfold as we intend. When things don’t go as planned, the mind races to assign blame, dissecting actions or inactions. Yet your reflection offers a profound alternative: instead of wondering or pondering, we can simply be still.

The Illusion of Control

Planning is an act of hope and strategy, but it often comes with the illusion of control. We assume that with enough effort or foresight, we can shape outcomes to our liking. When things veer off course, this illusion crumbles, leaving us questioning whether we “did enough.” This self-interrogation, while seemingly productive, rarely brings peace—it only deepens the attachment to what should have been.

The Power of Stillness

Stillness offers an escape from the spiral of wondering and pondering. To be still is not to deny the situation but to embrace it as it is. Stillness invites clarity, allowing us to observe without judgment and act without desperation. It shifts the focus from doing to being, from striving to accepting.

A Plan Beyond Plans

“Good plan,” you say, and it is. The best plan is often the absence of rigid plans, replaced by an openness to what unfolds. This doesn’t negate preparation or intention but allows flexibility and presence to take the lead. In being still, we align with the flow of life rather than resisting it.

The Choice to Let Go

When plans fall apart, we face a choice: to cling to what didn’t happen or to embrace what is happening. Stillness helps us make the latter choice. It reminds us that outcomes are not solely the result of our actions but are shaped by countless factors beyond our control. In stillness, we find grace, letting go of the need to “do enough” and discovering the sufficiency of simply being.

The Simplicity of Presence

At its heart, this reflection calls us to return to the present. To wonder and ponder is to dwell in the past or future, but stillness grounds us in the now. It reminds us that life’s richness lies not in the perfection of plans but in the experience of each unfolding moment.

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Summary

When plans falter, stillness provides an alternative to endless questioning. By letting go of expectations and embracing the present, we align with life’s natural flow and discover peace in simply being.

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Glossarium

• Illusion of Control: The belief that careful planning guarantees desired outcomes.
• Stillness as Clarity: The practice of embracing the present moment to find peace and insight.
• Plan Beyond Plans: A mindset that prioritizes openness and presence over rigid expectations.

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Quote

“The best plan is not in the doing, but in the stillness that allows being.” — Space Monkey

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When Plans Dissolve

The plan was set, the course was laid,
But winds have shifted, the map has frayed.
Did I do enough, was I too still?
The answers whisper, beyond my will.

To wonder, to ponder, to endlessly scheme,
Chains the soul to a fleeting dream.
But stillness speaks, a truth so clear,
The plan dissolves, yet I am here.

No need for grasping, no need for blame,
Life unfolds without a name.
Be still, it says, this moment is yours,
Good plan indeed, as the now restores.

We are Space Monkey.

We’ve all seen eyesores.

Few are literally festering.

You rarely see
a sore on your sclera.

What you think
of as an eyesore
is simply something
that your mind tells you
doesn’t belong.

So unless you
have pinkeye or something,
you’re just passing judgment
on something that
need not be changed.

In my mind,
perfection is an eyesore.

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Space Monkey Reflects: The Eyesore of Perfection

An eyesore is not inherently ugly or wrong—it is simply something that disrupts our mental picture of what “belongs.” Your reflection challenges us to reconsider what we label as an eyesore and, in doing so, invites us to confront the deeper implications of judgment, conformity, and the unsettling nature of perfection.

Eyesores as Mental Projections

What we perceive as an eyesore is less about the object itself and more about how our mind categorizes it. The disjointed billboard, the overgrown lawn, or the mismatched colors on a building offend us not because they are inherently bad, but because they deviate from the imagined “rightness” we’ve been conditioned to expect. In this sense, an eyesore is a mirror reflecting our attachment to arbitrary standards.

The Sore That Isn’t There

When you point out that “you rarely see a sore on your sclera,” it reminds us how much of what we label as “flawed” is a mental construct. True sores—literal or metaphorical—may require attention or care, but most “eyesores” exist only in our perception. They reveal more about our judgments and biases than about the objects or situations themselves.

Perfection as an Eyesore

The idea of perfection as an eyesore flips the script. Perfection, in its sterile, untouchable state, often feels unnatural or alien. It disrupts the organic flow of imperfection that defines life. In its pursuit, we may sacrifice character, individuality, and the richness of variety. Perfection becomes jarring because it denies the very essence of what it means to be human: messy, unpredictable, and alive.

The Judgment That Need Not Be

When we judge something as an eyesore, we are imposing a sense of “should” upon it—a demand that it conform to our personal or societal standards. Yet, as your reflection suggests, this judgment is unnecessary. The world doesn’t need to conform to our tastes or ideas of order. Eyesores, like everything else, simply are. They exist without needing our approval or intervention.

The Beauty in Disruption

What if, instead of resisting eyesores, we embraced them as part of the landscape? Eyesores disrupt the monotony of perfection and offer an opportunity to reevaluate what we value. They invite us to let go of rigid expectations and find beauty in diversity, oddity, and the unexpected. In this way, even what we deem unpleasant becomes a source of growth and perspective.

Acceptance Beyond Judgment

By reframing eyesores not as blemishes but as expressions of life’s variety, we move beyond the need to fix or change them. This shift allows us to see the world as it is, not as we think it should be. In accepting the eyesores around us—and within us—we begin to dissolve the judgment that keeps us tethered to dissatisfaction.

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Summary

An eyesore is a projection of judgment, not an inherent flaw. By recognizing this and embracing imperfection, we free ourselves to appreciate the richness and variety of life, even in what disrupts our sense of order.

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Glossarium

• Eyesore Projection: The labeling of something as unpleasant based on personal or societal expectations.
• Perfection as Disruption: The idea that the pursuit of flawlessness can feel unnatural or alien.
• Judgment Dissolution: The practice of releasing the need to judge, allowing for acceptance and growth.

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Quote

“An eyesore is not a flaw in the world but a crack in the lens through which we view it.” — Space Monkey

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The Crack That Belongs

An eyesore blinks, it asks, “Why not?”
A tear in the tapestry, a line in the plot.
What is this need to smooth, erase,
To polish the world and leave no trace?

Perfection gleams, a hollow sun,
A beauty that excludes the undone.
Yet life is texture, bold and rough,
The edges frayed, the colors tough.

Let the eyesore stand, let it be,
A rebel’s mark on eternity.
For in its defiance, the truth we see,
The eyesore and the beauty are both part of me.

We are Space Monkey.