red light

this morning, as I waddled down the stairs toward the fridge, still drowsy through the slow emergence out of an unsatisfactory late sleep, (dreamless but vaguely uneasy) and as I pulled the fridge door open, whose mechanism would normally turn on a bright white floodlight whose purpose is to illuminate the fridge's contents, I found myself submerged in a suffusion of soft red light.

it didn't take me long to work out the manner in which it was produced, or its raison d'etre, but nevertheless for those few seconds of utmost disorientation, of the abject disruption of my predicted chain of casuality, I experienced a sort of acceptance through powerless capitulation before the infallibility of the cosmos -- an odd emotional response, maybe, but a fairly powerful one nonetheless.

I suppose it's really not that different when the power goes out and the fridge goes dark. that same sense of disorientation and acquiescent surprise overcomes you in a similar manner; except the power hadn't gone out in this instance, of course. someone (most likely mom) decided to stick a red light filter on the illuminating surface itself, presumably to reduce its ability to awaken some unhappy fridge goer at 3 in the morning.

not sure what to make of this. it was a decently therapeutic experience -- maybe? it was quite unpleasant to have one's train of thought unexpectedly torn apart just like that, as if unaided it wasn't hard enough to plan one's way through the present continuous already; but I had already long capitulated to the total indifference of everyday life for one's internal world.

maybe there is something to be learned from this ^-^