Tag Archives: philosophy


We were nearly to the middle

Of what should have been said

But I pulled out my phone

And wrote this poem instead.

No halfway point

Is a hopeful place to stay,

For you will keep plopping

At each halfway along the way.

Fractions don’t end,

And neither will this,

For avoidance when achieved

Is bliss.


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I am forsaken
A lab rat to god
Who doesn’t care if I cry out
Or ask nicely.
I refuse to believe
Someone so full of love
Would do this to me
So untimely.
And so disbelief
Turns to hate
And hate to desolation.
I should go about this more wisely.
Either I am in hell
Or it doesn’t exist.
Or I’m wrong
If Buddha saw rightly.

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I don’t think I should be here at all. Not here necessarily. Just, now? When? Perhaps I am confused again?
I’m not sure and it matters little at the moment. Whether the things I believe have ever been true or could have taken place or how many layers of fucking reality I’ve fallen through or risen up against.
Then again, I am in two different places at once. All the time. So which one is real? Do they alternate? Do I disappear to you? Not fall off the radar. Actually disappear. I’ve watched things disappearing all day. People too. And now there is no one around. I don’t have a phone. Empty house. But I’m most worried about the metal frame. Those are the most unstable items. Things like metal and plastic, and all the man made stuff. But wood and stone and dirt and trees so far all of that’s still there aside from the complete lack of anything under the kitchen floor. I’ve been tossing different sorst of things into the darkness to test for a response but nothing changes or hits bottom. Just gone.
This is a test because I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming right now. It’s like when I can take a picture of something to prove it’s there. but i don’t have a camera other than my phone and that’s missing too. I don’t know how to wake up. I’m not sure what I’ve done to my elbow but, the fact that I feel pain does not deter me from my dream theory. Waking pain crosses into dreams. No problem there. Is that like a blood-brain barrier thing? So it has to latch onto something that’s able to cross. Emotions probably.

In my dreams I sound philosophical. When I’m awake I know better. There are still those rare gleaming moments of clarity and truth. I’ve forgotten what those feel like.
So I have to ask myself (there is no one else) what I most sound like. A philosopher or an idiot?

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Filed under mad ruminations, writing