A Corollary to the Possibilities of Unknowing

6:38 AM – 7:01 AM

What am I when I’m not really thinking of something? Existence is unknowable; it’s the perception of the thing that matters. The corollary to the facts of unknowing is that the best possible out-come is equally valid. That’s what you hope for, but you know that the worst thought may be true.

When you wake up, you come out of the dream and, briefly, wonder about the actual. If it is the perception and not the fact, the fake is as viable as the actual, as long as the perceiver is fooled. So, when I lie to you, oh Love Of My Life, it isn’t a lie if you don’t know, if you never find out. The sin of the lie is piled upon the liar, not the lied to. Briefly, Santa Claus exists. The parents buy the presents. The children live in a lie, but it doesn’t matter. Why do we need Santa Claus? Why do we need anything more than the clearly evident?

The fact of Santa Claus is that he really does exist, but the only power granted to him was immortality. Every year, for the past 1500 years or so. He piles into the current mode of transportation (it’s been a semi for the past twenty years, mostly) and delivers gifts to all of the children that he can in one night. At most, that’s about 1000. But, more than likely, it’s about 500. He parks his truck on the edge of town and delivers presents. I am ten feet tall and rising a thousandth of a millimeter a day. I’m only 5’ 10 ½” when someone can see me. How many years until I can kiss the sky (or “this guy,” depending on how you hear it)? One year, when you were very young, it was your town that Santa picked. One Christmas, there was a gift beneath the tree that your parents couldn’t exactly remember buying, but that they didn’t think that they hadn’t bought either. It was a simple gift, it didn’t cost a lot of money, but, somehow, it was exactly what you wanted. That was not a power granted to Santa, it was one inborn and honed by years of practice.