Plumbing the depths of sanity, I raised my eyes to the Great Bear. The horizon's after-image bisected the pole-star. Sky to Sky was a crossing of darkness to light: the night pinned down the city lights - the day walled in by dark clouds. Sitting in my room typing this, the air is alive with swirling transparencies. Late at night, when I walk in the park above the city, I am unsure as to whether I see frogs hopping to the right of me. The solstice is a whirling of fuzzy dark snakes from horizon to horizon. A friend of mine once threatened his brother with a broken neck, unless he said the walls were being torn apart. I never saw the walls go, but I saw the sky rise and the clouds retreat. It is as easy to mistake vision for reality as it is to mistake information for truth. The Internet is a great bringer of hallucinations: taking my eyes from the screen, I see screens in the walls all around me. Closing my eyes brings explosions. Make no mistake: I am happy.