i am not her, you are not me

separateness and difference may be unable to be overcome; limits, self-imposed emanating from the mind; who would follow me? i don’t care—this is sport, making sense of agency, self, you, distance, time, food, resources; never simple, always complexly alloyed, endlessly interesting; this is settling down into the quiet life of aliveness and pushing the limits of my mania but also staying on time on task under budget good little boy the agony of cognition today it is heroic to think and offer it to the world with no payment or reward or judgment or even seeing; i give you everything and no one sees because everyone’s engaged in their quest to be seen, belong, rest, have faith, not medicate their anxiety and depression; this is all a mess to say i’m here, i try, i will try and fail — i know too this is noble, brave, real, courageous; i am my own bard, isn’t it sad? only child behavior; a woman cannot be it, she is too self-concerned and endlessly articulating her projections and meaning, so i’m done with that listening, i am someone too and i can listen. anyway, jeopardizing my career and stability makes me awake and thrusts me into excellence. i am a Dracula parrot flying off the branch embracing evil, an ode to the devil in you and me, and nature’s indifference, time’s onward march while men try to structure and contain it, name and talk about it, climb the ladder of giving value to accumulate enough money so the number is high enough they stare at and think about all day and night; where to pour our worries? educate the young? selfish gnats…they’ll learn the wrong things intuitively on the internet then be isolated from wealth as they grow older because they have no skills, and what populace should forgive them? none! this is the next culture war; better start being a comedian now, it’s gonna be unreal