I fear the net is becoming
dystopic in the Huxleyan sense,
Much of it is now ruled by algocracies.

¶rovidence favored Big Tech's undertaking:
They tapped the attention-economy, our drive
to create, consume and pass comment on content;

To think of our modern communications,
Those strings of code, packets of data
travel across the globe. So many
transmissions, matters so complex
achieved with such ease, and words
exchanged without a thought for eaves'.

Some messages wander odd paths,
Signed communiques, cyphers
and other cryptic methods
to verify information
and keep secrecy intact.
Lucid whispers
in the static

Walking the estate
of my childhood,
Of adolescence.
Nostalgic loneliness.
The awe of discovery,
A life under lamplight.
Listen, naked trees shiver
in the winter chill, touched
by almighty rain-clouds. μ-Ziq plays Goodbye,
Goodbye.

Walking the city
I grew up in,
I grow old
here. Belonging;
History. I lost myself
in study, the humanities
which I dabbled in and other
dark arts. Forbidden knowledge,
Unspoken ethics. Ineffable wisdom,
Experience.

I sacrificed my creativity at the alter of some therapy.
I relapsed on existence, tortured by egotism.
I wandered off in a hurricane, chased
by something, it brought me beyond
our breathable atmosphere. I'm alright with it,
This. Whatever I feel; I live.
God does not give me strength but,
Nothing will. Being and darkness envelope
everything
becomes a comfort; safe
here.

I don't need to tell you
how much or how sorry,
Truly, I'm losing it, this, my

passion, my hopes for music
and writing. I am in longing
for the session, in memory;
Fleeting, I don't seem to be here, so I become
so much and way less than who I was back then.
I'd give you my arm, my neck, any body part you'd
accept. Those things just weigh on me.
I wanted to stare down mydriasis,

How well-equipped our astronauts are,
Such rigorous standards set for them by their governments.
It strikes me there are certain things a psychonaut should be,
Some level of training to make us proficient in these practices.

How to build a program or curriculum,
And how do we assess one's competency
in configuring mind? We can qualify it but
without a quantifiable unit of measurement;
We can only teach through experience.
We must borrow from other disciplines,
Adopting as many methods of description
as are useful. Ultimately our notation will fail
the exploration of inner-space, I think no metric
can adequately represent how we navigate a soul
The territory we meander through is so different
yet we may share an inkling
between people.

There is this feeling
that some experiences
are ineffable. No, I think
it's that they affect our means
of expression. States of mind that
break through self-concept, dissolve
our components, ego, id or otherwise.

We must reconcile postmodern relativism
with the richness of our own subjectivity.

I toss and turn, lost,
Holding to darkness
as a comfort. Shut my eyes
as if sleep has me, but I don't rest.

These mornings I am sober but
out of my mind, for

I feel an old craving

to change what I am.
Stumble through,
Hesitate upon