Lost . . . in my mind

Anymore

Any less

Pain

Pleasure

Where do we draw the line?

Doesn’t one make the other better…and worse,

More or less

People come

People go

People cum

People leave

Who stays?  Why stay?

Stay or go

Both are paths that lead…

Lead to what?

No one really knows,

Hence the conundrum

Searching, searching, my brain is scanning for the primer word. . . …

Lost

Is someone lost if a search is not taking place?

If they are searching are they truly lost?

Do I think these questions of questions, and rearrangement of letters in sentences means anything?

Do sentences have any meaning alone?

Or do they only mean what we understand them to mean?

Do our perceptions, our understanding, our cultural heritage

mitigate what we read, understand and say?

 

Are we just searching for someone or something to understand us, to get us?  There is something to human interaction and the moment a connection is made; it is felt.  We all long to be included and understood.

We want to know we are not alone

and we stumble upon

an other

who feels the same about ideas as we do

we feel a connection.

She steps forward unaware.

Unaware of so much

Everything is beyond the scope of awareness,

except for the small sliver of life she is focused on.

Truth and life.

It’s meaning or lack there of,

This does not preoccupy her mind.

The biological needs are what consume her

One moment passes into oblivion

While another is permanently imprinted in our mind

As permanently as life remains

Day after day

We progress toward our demise

Life is fleeting and at times unending

Do we ever truly appreciate, in the moment, that precious moment

Or are we living to remember?

Is life meant to be remembered?

Is nostalgia an evolutionary balm to ease the decline into permanent

end?

 

I take a sip of coffee and place the mug down.

Staring at the layer of liquid sitting in my cup I start to think of all that has taken place in order for me to be sitting here staring at this viscous liquid agent.

All of human history, all of all history, all of all existence has happened and lead to this moment.

All over the earth, people are living and dying, some at a slower or quicker rate than others.

Whatever we are doing, we are doing it due in part to what has preceded us, for good or ill, we sit in a history we can not escape and a future that won’t halt.

Time does not wait

Time is the sum of what we have been and

the hope of what we can be

before time passes us by and leaves us from whence we came.

 

Moderation

Everything in moderation

Moderation in moderation

Moderation for one is excess for another

Moderation for another is excessive constraint for one

Moderation in excess, is still excess . . .

Is moderation an unattainable for some?

Moderation is meaningless in an all or nothing situation.

From birth we test our boundaries.

A life of moderation is a life of boundaries untested.

Moderation is a word of relativity.

We all have to figure out its true meaning for our own lives.

Reality, relativity

One and the same.

50 minutes remain in an arbitrary distinction we have all agreed to, which is the end of one calendar day.

My life is not just a sum of minutes.

My life is not just a sum of experiences

My life is not so many things

My life is not yet explained

Not yet understood

My life is not over, not yet

My life is not my own

Life is shared

Existence is shared

If existence is not shared, it is nothing.

Nothing is solitary existence.

God is the expression of the absence of nothingness.

God is, whether real or imagined, is, A reason to be.

I desire existence without explanation…

yet understanding is where I find meaning.

Do I try to understand so as to provide a juxtaposition for the existence I yearn for?  True existence is without meaning, understanding or explanation.

Meaning, understanding and explanation are only my attempt to hold onto and contain the true existence that was and will be and is.

To exist, to be, is not passive

Pure existence is true action.

Everything else is window dressings, …?

Getting lost in my own mind is.

I am existence…

Animate or inanimate. . .

Life is or is not. . .

What provides the difference between rock and leaf?

God is an answer, to the unsolved problem

There is a difference or so we think between a corpse and a being.

Is existence different from life?

Life is not being?  A corpse exists, doesn’t it?

A corpse is like a chair or a rock, it exists but it does not live.

Yet we differentiate between a being and a rock.

A being is, a rock is, as well.

Yet we draw a line.

What ceases to exist when I perish?

Death comes to me, yet I remain.

My remains point to my existence.

Does why matter?

Life is meant to be lived

Life is destined for cessation.

Do what you want to do,

Be who you want to be

You are who. . . you are?

When we are stripped of all we are, who are we?

Being is awareness, no

Fulfillment is awareness

Contrast is meaning.

Absence is. . . negation proves presence

All I know, is that I know, I know not at all

Author: Brandon Fischer

University of Texas graduate and beer lover.

2 thoughts on “Lost . . . in my mind”

  1. Like the poetry very much. Has much to say. I have lots of comments but cannot condense a lifetime of a very unconventional life here.

    Like

  2. Depression is rage turned inward. When we can accept why we are angry and find the release then our lives unfold like a flower in bloom and all the questions are answered.
    But remember the venus flytrap is a flower also. Be cautious but unafraid.

    Like

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