I knew it could not be real. Nights on earth were not like this. It only is real within the framework of a game or a book or a movie or that temporary escapism that pulls us out from a rather banal life. But it is real. You can see the lasers as they dance across your retina and you can feel the cool wind from the night desert slide up your leg and you can hear the metallic cries of a new sound and you can taste a fine alkaline coolness in the back of your throat. And you can drift among the lights and the souls and dance between and through spirits that haunt the night with you. And it is all real and none of it matters and everything matters. And it is all matter.
608 / 747