I’m hot
I’m cold
And I am here
In this room
In this bed
With my thoughts
My impure thoughts
And as I dismember myself
I find
That I am neither unique
Nor the same
What a predicament
But as I find that
My thoughts are my own
I find, also that I am nothing
How does one go about becoming something
Does a job do the trick
Or a degree
Or being just so gosh darn well liked
You can’t stand it?
Or is it standing for something
Larger than yourself
Or painting
Or connecting
Or is it none of it at all?
I want to peel away
The human disconnection to everything
Caused by our physical selves
We hate these physical selves any way
We must find a way to let them go
Peacefully
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