Existence

'The world is over and i realize it was all in my head.'

—Nine Inch Nails

If the universe is expanding,

What lies beyond its furthest star?

If the universe has a defined shape,

What lies outside its furthest edge?

 

How can the mind accept

A thing that curves back upon itself?

How can the mind accept

A thing that has no end?

 

Nothing

Anywhere

Makes

Any

Sense.

 

Accept

That all you have

Is what you impart

To those around you.

 

Understanding is a light.

So is devotion.

So is love.

So is compassion.

So is a smile.

So is a sacrifice.

So is a feeling of importance.

So is a feeling of belonging.

So is a feeling that what you do

Is appreciated

By someone

Somewhere

And not

  Ultimately

    Futile.

 

Life

Is a battle

Of every living cell

Against

Its own

Decay.

 

Every breath

Every heartbeat

Is a victory

In a war

That every one of us

Will ultimately

Lose.

 

Temporary.

 

If all your heartbeats

Could be placed in a box

And you could decide

How to spend each one

What would you do?

 

There is something

Floating behind my eyes

That peers out

Through these two

Portholes.

 

These lungs breathe

This heart beats

These organs produce and process

Nutrients and waste

All to keep

That

Something

  Alive.

 

This body is

An IV feed

An iron lung

A pacemaker

A defibrillator

A massive support system.

 

The things

That are us—

This You and this me—

Are the things

That peek out

Through the eye-holes

Of our empty

Robot shells

To look at

The world.

 

These shells are not cozy,

But naked

And exposed:

 

Houses

Of gossamer

Glass.

 

We bounce around inside

Untethered

And

Ungrounded.

 

We can only pull down the blinds;

And then,

The ears still hear

The nose still smells

The skin still feels

The mouth still tastes:

 

The support system is

Assailable

From all sides.

 

Only our eyes float above it all:

 

Hovering

As if

In a big,

Transparent

Globe:

 

Omniconscious

Yet

Omnivulnerable.

 

The bellows have creaked.

The wires have pulled:

 

  “Hello.”

 

I see you peering at me.

 

  What do you see?

 

 

Betternottohavebeenborn

Those who live

  Experience suffering.
But suffering

  Can only be ended

  While we live.

    Is it possible

    To live

    Without

    Suffering?

 

We can literally

Be sure of

Nothing

—Absolutely nothing—

But that our own minds

  Exist.

 

Our eyes may relay

Only illusions

And fabrications

  —Patterns of color

     That our brains

     Interpret

     As a world.

  

That breeze you feel

On your face,

That flesh you feel

Beneath your fingertips,

  May be nothing more

  Than a phantom message

  From a hollow star.

 

Hearing.
Taste.

Smell.

 

  These are only as real

  As the electrical pulses

  That carry them to our brains.

 

  They may all

  Be falsified.

 

For is that not

A dream?

 

You

And you

And you

May be nothing more

Than manifestations

Of my unconscious

 

  —Just as I

     May be

     A manifestation

     Of yours.