Chained to the sky,
Bound to the air,
As a child I thought
the world upon his shoulders
represented what we are born to bear:
The burden of consciousness;
Is each of us
holding back
the heavens?

This is the only thing
that makes anything
better anymore

whispered the
Scorekeeper to her
localized experience

machine running upon
everything possible;
Acknowledge the
choice desired,
Be sagacious
in choosing

for it's through the cracked ones
that the light shines.

'The end justifies the means'
said the consequentialist
to his empty audience.

'The means justify a duty'
said the deontologist
to his lonely conscience.

"Carpe Diem.
Seize the day, boys.
Make your lives extraordinary".

I've come to ask
how subjective is time?
Not the pieces we keep
but the changes we define.
A second is objective, measured,
Yet a moment is held in the mind.
We perceive reality through patterns
which can be expressed mathematically,
Relative to what we conceive, as chances
cohere to determine our chosen state of being;
The question has been: do we actually determine?
Or is it just endless reflection! Can choice shape teleology
and is it more than just mere binary, perhaps a continuum
of infinitely/eternally collapsing wave functions in computation
as the brain strains itself to make sense of this oncoming reality;
Do we lose all semblance of existence when that magnificent ***** is destroyed and at what point does this occur if it gradually degrades? I shall now state that truth, meaning and belief are three sides
of the same coin. You've got three choices
but only two chances,
Not that it matters;
T'was a toss up between genius and madness
but it landed on forlorn and simply rolled away
down an alley into abandon, longing and sadness.

Memory's a hidden thing in sublimation,
Energy flowing upon a chemical medium,
We harness it to receive our vision;

Did I spy? Eidetic
childhood took me by surprise!
While the world is all but a dying light:

"Knock the world right off its feet
and straight onto its head, book of love,
Will long be laughing after you are dead,
Fascinated by the look of you and what was said."

We can remember so vividly
yet as easily doubt our recall,
I guess all's fair in subjectivity
with its many mendacious tendencies;
I maintain there's more to memory
than this most lachrymose ending
(after which I'll say no more),
For surely we can doubt
just about anything because
*thought is exempt from being.

So many things are presented to us pre-analysed,
Ready for immediate digestion by the mind;
We are primed to respond, inclined
towards specific riposte.

Critical thinking is anything
but timing is everything,
Always be reckoning;
Examine the ingredients
of pre-packaged information.

The food we feed on often has an agenda
cast unto it
yet we must blame the people who ate it.

Don't feed the trolls.