Lost

      
In the bleak-midwinter,
Where sun seems so sinter-
And the sky splinters.

I walk, I run, I sprint.
But my head keeps squinting,
Spinning, Singing and hinting-
To the Dire Dark Dreaded Dream.

    

      
Momentarily Together. 
    Like two leaves blown in the wind, swirling together in a beautiful dance, before parting forever, to never see each other again.
Momentarily Together. 
    Like two particles of water in a simulation, catapulted from foam into the air, hitting each other, never truly interacting.
Momentarily Together.
    Like two packages in the ether, colliding, mixing and corrupting, before being scrambled forever through the jam.

A barrier between us, made of flesh. 
Disconnected, the only protocol: language -- low-bandwidth.
I say "I love you",
    You say "I Love you too".
I say "Your hurt me"
    You say "Your hurt me too"
But do YOU, understand? Do I? Do we?
We empathize, Imagine we were you. But we are not you! 
An approximate model, trying to maximize R^2.

But why accept this?

All individuals melt to one -- A transcendental realm, the instrumentalisation.
No more barriers; One mind in one body.
Together, each image seen, each sound heard, each thought thought, each action done, each word spoken.
The truest connection that exist, without any falsehood nor coldness -- genuine warmth and honesty remains.

But is it?

For what true connection is born in absence of struggle?
For what value, does honesty and understanding have without sacrifice?
For what means warmth with lack of coldness?
For what is loyalty without the thought of betrayal?

No warmth, but lack of cold.
No loyalty, but lack of betrayal.
No honesty, but lack of lies.
The fragile beauty of the dancing leaves, the catapulting particles and ether packages twisted and corrupted into mediocracy. 
No Peaks, No Lows, No Potential, all in equilibrium -- The Heatdeath. 
We killed ourselves!

    

      
The ego rages and screams
    Glaring sun, hot and harsh beams
        The blue is gray
            Constant state of belay.

Focused-- A single task,
No questions asked;
Step for Step, close and Closer,
Until, finally Closure.

Waking up, the world is bright.
        Sky is blue, sun smiles, fluorite.
Calm, Warm and Contend.
        I Comprehend.

    

      

Driving, Coasting, Gliding.
Person there, Human here,
Staring, Swiping, Saying.

And I wonder--
If you know what I mean?

Less than Hate, Less than Love.
Indifferent.
To what it seems.

And I wonder--
If you know what I mean?

Pretty, Tidy, Giddy.
Acting full aware,
Societal bound, firmly in Reality.

And I wonder--
If you know what I mean?

Estranged, Far away my mind drifts.
Violent thought, Empty thought.
I act free. Why am I here?

And I wonder--
If you know what it means?

    

      
The Great irony of man is that he's always chasing his goals and dreams, providing him great pleasure. 
But upon reaching his goals and dreams, man turns dissatisfied. Desperately trying to find new goals and falling into deep unhappiness, only when finding new aspirations can man be happy again and the cycle continues.

So substantial is the irony, that man created forms of art to cope with it. Such as rice or sand art, where great pieces of art are created by arranging rice or sand on the ground, only to be destroyed upon completions.

    

      
Deny the flying Immortals,
Trying to reach the Heavens, life long.
I cosily compute, the mortals Dao,
Counting; bigger numbers forever more!

    

      
I am afraid of the black dragon.
    Afraid, 
        of swimming in the endless parade, 
        my arms strength flee,
        to never be seen.
    Afraid,
        of being a raider in the tirade,
        my body bound by rope,
        looped across the keels without hope.
    Afraid,
        of being gray and weighed,
        in the hay,
        the feeble mind already estray.
    Afraid,
        of the metal beast cade,
        whizzing and flitting,
        then hitting.
    Afraid,
        of the mountain -- red sprayed,
        flowing nearer and closer,
        like pompeii, a poser.
    Afraid,
        the ticker ticking or the wits red invade,
        rushed to the clinic,
        the blood too aminic.
I am afraid of the black dragon.

    

      
Die unermüdliche Ameise am spazieren,
Schmeißt den Soldatenhelm weg,
Schmeißt die Mossin weg,
Ist nun frei,
Erst für Tage dann für Wochen,
Sehnt sich zurück in den Ameisenbau.

    

      
Und das Universam sagt: "Ich lieb dich",
Ich schau zurück und sag das stimmt nicht.

    

      
Friends

Poland, Germany, Algeria, England, Bulgaria all over the world.
Connected through more than device alone;

Ones a lawyer arguing just.
Ones a schizo writing love.
Ones a Pilot shooting plane with ease.
Ones a Coomer chasing girls.
Ones a Prince promising fortune for a fee.
Ones a Fighter wrestling people to their knee.

All, post memes with much glee.
Shit post with laughter and joy--

    

      
Angst, Dread and Fear.
The tiny Ant screams.
Smite, then Fly, Glide, Ride.
The pomp: Flashes, Light, Bright.
Over streams, Over greens, high into the sun.
A fever, at most a dream.

    

      
Today is one of these days.
Nothing seems more fun--
I need another hit, 
to bring back my grit.
I had so much to do,
I had so many ideas,
But now all seem dull and null.
What will I do?
A hit will do-- All will be fluffed and snuffed.

    

      
When walking through the darkest Valley,
I WILL fear no evil, for the Lord is on my side.
In your unfathomable wisdom, you sent a light on my side.
Your light drives the forces of evil away.
Your light's, my children's dream.

    

      
Watching, Staring at the Screen.
There she is; Who could forsee?
Laughing, Learning in the marquee.
Telling stories of her feats; Stop I plea.
    Six and more friends wherever she goes.
    Five languages close.
    Four arts exposed.
    Three proffesions well-disposed. 
    Two homes disclosed.
    One city wide network self-imposed.
    Zero faults juxtaposed.
I blink, 
    my head spins, 
        my vision turns red,
            my thoughts are a tangled mess.
Through the contrast, I despair!
    What am I? If not her?

    

      
I wished,
    A brick,
        would fall,
            Upon my,
Head!

    

      
The Socratic Fool,
Had a task to do,
To lift the mundane to the divine,
O, what joy would it be?

The Aquinastic Jester,
Had a task to do,
To tear down the divine to the mundane,
O, how cruel would it be?

The wise clown,
Had no task to do,
The divine is divine and the mundane is mundane,
O, what sorrow this must be.

    

      
They see me standing and wink,
I try to hide, why?
Too Late.

I am a fucking robot,
I do things without Control,

I hear laugh, I do too.
I hear talk, I spin a tale.
Truth mixed with lies,
Not a delicate dance,
But a piano key on a string, 
Playing a tune.

I am a fucking robot,
I watch myself--
Total loss of control.

    

      
I feel my mind slipping.
Slipping to where? Maybe on a banana?
Into Insanity.