I invite them over and treat them to dinner.
Complications, tangled threads, messy situations, uncalculated consequences,
they hang out and make themselves at home. And there I am in the middle, playing
hostess, inciting riots and other symptoms of misfiring neurons and maladjusted
hormones, enjoying myself immensely.

wants to live in a box when non-Euclidean space is so much more

Certainly simplicity and
Occam’s razor have their place, and are welcome to the party. But I want to
teeter on the verge. I want to tapdance on the event horizon. I want to be the
tornado blooming from a single flutter of butterfly wings. I see streets and
want to loop them into Gorgon hair. I see people and want to shake them out from
their streamlined jackets, fiddle with their bags, tell them where to stick
their equilibrium, then give them a really big hug.