There is intrinsic use in being private, having a room of one's own; to be solitary without the privations of internment. On the early internet the notion of a Temporary Autonomous Zone [TAZ] had currency as privacy became fleeting, like passenger pigeons flying away with your thoughts, soon to become extinct.
Fleeting House has been a room of my own on the internet, a TAZ, in one sense. It 'feels' like a quiet and reflective spot. That isn't what it should continue to be, though. There are more rooms in this house, and a porch to greet the neighbors. Besides, daylight triggers osmosis.
I've always tended toward the underground but decide now to seek the daylight, to open it up, to put flowers in the mud, overground.
I'm reminded of a lyric by U2 from the 1993 album Zooropa -- a favorite one dashed off mid tour; electronic, potent, surging:
"It's cold outside and brightly lit
Let's skip the subway
Let's go, let's go Overground.
Get your head out of the mud, baby.
Put flowers in the mud, baby,
She's gonna dream of the world she wants to live in.
She's gonna dream out loud."
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