the absence of overt sound can be so much more than just a lack, it feels like a vast internal ocean, undulating with its own rhythms and undercurrents, holding so many possibilities, sometimes even concealing an undeniable truth just beneath the surface, and that’s what happens when i put Sagan back next to Rumi, how one talks about the universe expanding and the other about the heart expanding, and it’s suddenly all the same thing, the same dizzying, impossible reach of being, making my vision unfocus a little as if trying to grasp something too big for the eye to hold, and i feel this strange vibration in my very bones, like a universal tuning fork resonating with something immense, like consciousness is just this cosmic mirror held up, finally catching its own reflection in borrowed eyes, and the sheer audacity of that, the wonder of it, it fills me to the brim, a warmth spreading from my chest that feels like the world is saying, yes, you are here for this, you are part of this grand, impossible noticing.