It’s a good place to think. A BENCH. To mull over ideas. That’s my madness. Everywhere I look I see

patterns. Patterns are someone’s idea, someone’s creation. Order is recklessly rearranging the furniture

around us. Old buildings being replaced by new buildings. Old people dropping dead at the feet of

children. Order giving birth in the ashes of death. Order is my God. Patterns are His skin. I need a

universe in which everything makes sense. What else is consciousness for?