I found a cornfield. Anyone can come here at the end of the day and express sorrow for aging parents. Or you can walk out onto the highway, decode the dotted line and try to understand the motives of disappeared friends. The sun comes down and burns in its own shadow. I never understood this emptiness. Sobriety is a different kind of disease. Sunday night wine innoculates me. I sit under the trees at night. I wish I could calm myself in church darkness. So many people are chasing God's phantoms. But I think God is absence. Everything removed. God is absence and silence and darkness and the terror you experience when everyone and everything is removed and you are all that remains.