it may come with deep regret + profound sadness to make this admission:
most times, i dunno what i’m doing.
half the time, i dunno where i am.
though, at all times, i ask why
i’m doing what i’m doing.
but with Time, ‘never-knowing’ — perhaps — is intimacy shared:
a torn blanket of security,
heavy-handed yet thin;
a cuddle-buddy of sorts.
— though in earnest —
i admit
i’m grounded in feeling.
clichéd, maybe.
triggered, nahhhh…
masochistic, yeaaaah!
intentionality competing with rationality, embedded
increasingly in — techno-logically-speaking — absolutely
dissonant brains and absent
hearts in hollow bodies
of
0, 0, 1 ;
0, 1 ;;
Dennis: 0 ;;;
Machine: 1