Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
263 · Jun 2021
New Gaf, Who 'Dis?
Walking thru my new old suburbia
on this quiet June eve, it's in the air and
I'm at ease. Its chill frisson has me so captive;
A sunset vespers some comfortable views,
I feel it fade as peaceful night sets in.
I am wandering the streets again.
I scope about these estates.
That indigo hue
in the sky
calms me.
263 · Oct 2022
Intelligence, Willpower
The clever craft emerges from
intelligence, willpower. It allows
for healing, or human enhancement,
Provides a means to catalyze inspiration,
Or indeed proffers mere modes of recreation,
And of course a dark side which is unwholesome.

All the same I turn to those fabled schools of Alteration,
Of Conjuration, Destruction, Illusion,
Of Mysticism, and Restoration;
Its immanent applications

and its transcendent source:
Metaphysics. Knowledge, experience.
It is worth acknowledging recreation, playfulness.
I trial under 50mg of 3-MEC, fairly weak,
Temptation to re-dose but I refrain. For me
October's a great time to get ****** up, but
these days it would take true friends
to go there and come back again.
261 · Jun 2018
Resurrect The Villain
The knot in my stomach
tightens, this awareness
will fade if I do not take
care of myself. I can't live
like this, mind seeks to cut
itself off from my body and

its emotion.
We are two; mind
and body, man and woman,
Darkness and light. I am one; a human
on her journey, trying hard to remember his old

life. Forgotten hopes of learning
meditation, yoga, and tantra
as a means to better my health.
What wishful dreaming, a notion
of adventure, looking back it seems
like momentary longing was satisfied
in its instance of being.
I remember

the existential amazement of a child
and the loss of that is haunting me.
I also remember a willingness to
play the villain and I wonder
whether a carefree attitude
is the thing I'm missing.

I think often about the
Inheritance Of Loss
and of innocence.

I thought I was ready
to find someone and relate
to them, that I was ready to rejoin
the living.

The villain
wept.
Felt quite low last weekend. Took 12.5mg of amitryptaline.
I'd been meaning to  assess its effect on sleep/dreaming
as part of a long-running personal experiment.
Experienced hypogogia as I drifted off that night
but the content of dreaming itself was unclear.
The sedate feeling lingered into the next day.

Forty-eight hours after initial administration
I noticed an offset/aftereffect. I dreamed that night
and remembered enough nonsense to be bored/perturbed.
I experienced a vivid hypnopompic state, whereby
parts of my dream clung to waking thought for long enough
to remember some narrative (some sort of teen-drama mash-up
but the lovable main characters were missing, and I was earnestly
trying to convince myself it [the dream?] was worth continuing.
A mild but noticeable aftereffect feeling persisted into the next day.
At 12.5mg its character is not so clear, no signs of anything interesting.
I found tianeptine more curious. Fruitless experiment, will not repeat.
261 · Aug 2017
Sageous Travails
I dreamed of 839 last night,
I dreamed the gang was back together
and it really messed me up.

Here comes the last festival
of this lost summer,
*"Safe as ****."
Quote:
Line Six from Jeremy Faxman in Human Traffic [1999]
261 · May 2022
Lost In The Sauce
I wander through town by day,
Stopping at Sparch to chat.

I meander about town in the eve,
Chasing the hues of dusk.

I tear up in misplaced anxiety but,
Keeping my eyes on the sky

I am transfixed by what is above us,
Spacing out into that golden indigo fade

I know I am lost, yet I am with the horizon.
Lost in the sauce,

I dream of escape, albeit to an unknown destination.
Bathing in this, 1⁄f
to seek peace.
With strange things at my back
I tread softly, wandering
to find déjà vu waiting patiently,
But you already knew that.

I wonder will I escape this view:
"...the viewpoint of absolute truth, [where] what we feel and experience in our ordinary daily life is all delusion";
But you already knew that.

I wander through memory,
Against a dark background.

I wanna feel your heart soak
in lake control
,

Unreadable with
beautiful abandon
.
Quote:
Lines Six and Seven by the Dalai Lama.
259 · Oct 2019
Susurrus
As one ages it can become difficult to see
that beauty in the world, I try
to remember to look for it,
To enjoy simple aesthesis when possible.

Listening to Ocean Eyes
and I feel older inside.

Realized how alone I am, wondered
whether I haven't been clean for too long.
I keep forgetting
I don't have a substance use disorder, I keep forgetting
I'm not currently a drug user.
I gave up that life, and
can't remember why.

Take enough benzodiazepine and you can time travel,
But only forward;
Was never really too bothered with benzos, 'cause I just
wanna go back
and be accepted.
259 · Oct 2016
Changeability/Exit
There came a point where the learning ceased
and when recreation became its sole purpose
I had to desist, this is why
you don't see
me anymore;

I gave up everything that
I had to reach
where

I am.
I just
can't be back there anymore.

Forgive me for being such
a changeling.
257 · Dec 2021
DAybreak, nigHTfall
I experienced beyond my means
Seeing so much, hearing such things,
It tore into me, and I spun like a cyclone;
But beyond the eyewall of my soul all is still
as if nothing was there. I went willingly to alter my mind
and so dissolved for a time. I lay at the altar of consciousness,
I found nothing
and rejoiced.
256 · Jun 2017
Humanity/Mortality
I'm trying
so hard
to be human
and that
is where I
keep falling
down. It hurts.
I want to see the good in people
but keep seeing this badness sequestered in myself.

We all die in the end
anyways.
254 · Jun 2024
Sol Omnibus Luce
Sometimes the clouds crowd
my mind, they cast shadows
in which my fires seem more

intense, and sometimes I find
myself uneasy, it is difficult to
sit with the abstract headiness.

I take N-desalkylfluarazepam.
I take 3-Fluoroamphetamine.
I might even take ketamine.

It loosens me up, a sense
of otherness is familiar
and perhaps it is the

possibility of escape
rather than escaping
that give me comfort,

To know the tools are
there, to feel as a ward
of their potential lore.
The sun shines for all.
The dominant drive is the handle on the reducing valve of consciousness.
Consciousness is not merely received, it flows through us,
And one's body is its conduit.

Being has an active role in its synthesis.
It is from this vantage that pharmacophenomenology dares to ask:
Is there something the components of neurotransmission feel like?
For example, what commonalities are felt
under the influence of serotonergic drugs?

What sensate invariants are to be found
in the actions of other neurotransmitters, endorphins and hormones?
Can we identify these felt sensation with those naturalistic concepts?
Could we map the structures and limits of experience from the inside out,
Using neuropsychopharmacology as a cartogram
and the phenomenological tradition as a pathfinder.
Would that be so noumenautic?
Husserl's yearning for a science of consciousness,
Shulgin's pursuit of alchemy to scout the interior universe,
Varela's methodology to reciprocally constrain conceptual domains,
Sjöstedt-Hughes' psychonautic assertions which constitute a Kantian heresy.

Could this close the explanatory gap, and make in-roads
into what Chalmers calls the hard problem of consciousness?
252 · Jun 2022
Changeable, Mutable, Aflame
I have been quiet these passing months,

Reflecting on my desires
amid this summer's solitude;
Their difference, and appearance,
These attitudes towards my future.
Odd to consider what changes in a year.

In May I moved back in with a few friends,
But after a month I move back out again.
As June comes to a close I find myself
at odds again, I assess 2C-T-21 but
it is unremarkable with effects
resembling a subdued 2C-E.
Given its toxic metabolites
I have no interest going
any further into it.
I guess they can't all be winners.

I attend the 2nd conference in
Philosophy and Psychedelics Studies
hosted by the University of Exeter. I applaud
the commitment and passion of this disparate group
of drug-addled academics, but still I am wary of our efforts.
It is a hard to study a thing
which alters the very faculties
of those who partake of it. As for
my own contribution, an old concept,
Apotheogenic.
252 · Oct 2020
Rehabituate
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
his question.

He quit
251 · Feb 2021
Where I Shelter
Been real before,
Now we're otherwise
or elsewhere.
Do you remember
all the time we spent
waiting to score?
Evening simmers
so sweet dusk
could hear her.

Yeah we knew what we were,
The world had nothing over us,
With less stress we were better for it.
We breathed in and I could feel how close
we were. It was real
and we were the best,
What was it that left us breathless?
Hell Is Round The Corner - Tricky
251 · Apr 2020
Interjection
I cannot fault your etiquette,
"Fate had you by the heel".
I state that Europe has committed to democracy;
Achilles might personify this at present
given the silence in Rome, Madrid, and Paris.
I hope our solidarity endures afterward, for
another great recession is coming, and thereafter
another counter-culture will rise from the discontent
and be fated to excess.
Palace of Nations
248 · Oct 2019
Elsewhere
I query the belief
that I do not use drugs
for the traditional reasons.
This belief entails crafting a morality
and there is nothing as perilous; good, bad
and evil. I hold that psychoactive substances are
inanimate. I'm not sure I can distinguish my use from
another, but now I'll write otherwise.
I realized in the shower
my reason for continuing down
this path. Clearly no longer recreational
or spiritual (even though its origins are there).
Neither therapeutic notions nor addictive patterns motivate
my wanderings anymore. No,
My interpretation seeks to push the limits
of what I feel as human.
I am willing to test the conditions
of our humanity.
I sought the threshold
at which we are animal, and
in this willingness to lose my mind
I'd found something
Else;
that I now juxtapose
with an understanding of Other.
245 · Aug 2023
Alleviāre
I find myself strongly desiring intimacy
yet fear its consequences. Sometimes I feel
emptiness after connecting with others.

The group are among a few of the only humans
I've ever felt to have known authentically.
A sense of belonging, fleeting, sempiternal.

A little ****** up, a lotta genuine.
I'd've been lost without 'em.
Now I find myself leaving
I regret not being around
more often.
242 · Jun 2016
Swell
I rarely feel anything
anymore, think I'm in
a lot of pain but I can't

tell, been playing with
this numbness for too
long, hide and seek.

Somebody
answer me,

Why are we
human?
Well!?
239 · Apr 2023
Hood Up
I put on some Boards of Canada
and begin searching
the dark web.

I forgot how much time I spent here,
Perusing boards and forums,
Running the shadows,

Turning over dark corners.
I put on some Carbon Based Lifeforms
and continue researching.

For those in society who have been displaced,
For whom no bell tolls,
For ware no refuge is safe.

Hackers. Dealers. Journalists.
Dissidents. Whistleblowers. Anarchists.
It's all very strange. I put on some drift-wave

to study them, their stories.
Ωnited ∃arth |
Æon Illuminate ⚕
Cybran §ymbionte ☤
237 · May 2016
μFiction
My history is between
me, my mental health
and this messy poetry.
Can charges of false-consciousness ever really be levied without falling victim to them?
236 · Nov 2023
Sometimes I Dream
That weekend something softened in me,
I felt a wholesomeness I'd almost forgotten.

During the car journey we spoke of things so
relaxed yet deeply. During a communal dinner
I noticed us reciprocally glancing away from one
and other, sharing a mischievous, concealed smile.
The next morning those juicy 90's tracks
blared from your car stereo along the back roads of K-town.

After that we messaged occasionally. I took up some old practices
and found myself believing strongly.
This month I felt the ground beneath me, to stoke the fires of my soul.

The clay of my body softens, I am malleable
in these desires for our health, to be with them,
♑︎ and behold, a friendship deepens, our desires soar.
236 · Oct 2023
Neon October
Old money gone bad,
New money gone wrong,

Last month I started a course of Zyban,
This month I remembered
the days of theater;

Our familial failings, stage right.
An escape offered by friends, stage left.
To center, torn by whatever it is the world says.

On the apron, resplendent in lurid hues,
Illuminated by neon bisexual lighting,
I find I am comfortable here, at last;
Coming out as a thespian.
235 · Sep 2019
Pacta Sunt Servanda
The human cannot return to nature,
There is too much beyond us which we cannot return.
Signs, tools, and above all, promise.
To promise is to prescribe a duty, and offer one's reputation
as collateral. It implies trust, it assures
that one will act in accordance with their word.

What should make this anything other
than an elaborate set of signs
used to measure
the value of other humans?
An intricate social tool, as it were.

In promise there is a prescription of duty
towards another, and an invocation of hope.
In promise there is subordination, implied trust.
They say agreements must be kept, unless they are worth less to others than a new option is to you.
Love the orange light
as you sit in the dark,
Eyes wandering over
a familiar vista, dear heart
aches with nostalgia, street-lit
trees move silently, a breeze you
see from your perch
but do not feel in the warm dark.
Love of the comfort
brought by night, when tucked away
at home in some nook or cranny, a place
you cherish for reasons no one knows why.
Innocent, wondering,
Staring out
at the night sky, space
is cold but
for those fiery infernos;
And the stars in your mind.
234 · Feb 2018
Phenomenal Mindworld
Conditions and connections are all
that minds must unify.

We go about the world
in search of patterns, seeking shapes, supposing connections; we are this process. It is all there is
but something's missing.

What ingredient is it
that makes our souls
so delicious?
233 · Mar 2018
Sociolect
Any Anything‽
Played that first gig.
For the first time in several years
the remnants of Blackmail House were
under one roof again, and it was not painless.

Though sometimes I feel I reject every chance
the world gives me to lead a better life, today
I know I've turned a new leaf and ushered in
new tides. Thought I was cursed, for whenever
I put my feelings into words they become untrue
but I overturn it now to speak with you
authentically. World is not a thing,
World is a process, a process
of exchange, truths are
the most valuable
things we can
ever trade.
233 · Jan 2021
Drifting Off
on a bed of quantum foam
clothed in pink noise
and enthalpic thoughts
dreaming of An Entheon lost
yet ❡alway remains
unto Ages of Ages.
231 · Feb 2018
Idiolect
Who is the substance for language that we will into existence, given to the pattern of signs and functions which comprise it?

Certain propositions can cause alterations unto our
suppositions, and even our very modes-of-cognition.
Emotion is the propagation of altered states, modes-of-affection. Own it.
231 · Mar 2023
Mamuralia
We made a choice
to fall like stars,

We fell so low
it was never too far.

We let go our cynicism,
Our disenchantment,

Forget the world,
Remember our planet.
To place power at the stem
of all moral things

is to lose one's grip
on a more charitable reality.
The questionable house-shares, cramped studios,
Dilapidated granny flats, with bedrooms anywhere
a bed could conceivably fit. There is no dignity
to be found here, nor a notion of feng shui.

Countless hours trawling through ads,
Listings and social media pages,
Innumerable miles traveled to view
places too small, expensive, uninhabitable

or just plain inhospitable.
After a viewing I'd drive back, south
towards the Wicklow mountains, to Bree where

I could rest my head awhile, before my landlord
sells. I will find a place here, oh yes,
This city has it's charms.
Tents line our streets and I see our country lies prostrate
before the economic alter of Tech, Pharma & Finance.
Oh, this country has it's charms; and vivid history.
230 · Dec 2024
Sit Fausta Quæ Labitur
Each of our
human disciplines
seems to have their epistemic
crutch to lean on, whether it
be Science and objectivity,
Politics and democracy
Philosophy and truth,
Psychology and self,
Religion and faith,
Law and reason,
Logic and truth,
Poetry and
meaning,

We stray
from epoch
to epoch, from
paradigm, milieu
or scene to moments
we share Between Two
Worlds; we'll stand in time.
May That Which Passes Be Favorable
230 · Aug 2021
False Dawn
I still yearn
for those seeping rays
of zodiacal light

that creep into the horizon
as the long sesh comes to an end.
5-MAPB reminds me

of where it all began: youthful escapism.
A conviction that we were part of something,
Our transcendension rituals.

Do I still believe? I am so tempted
by flualprazolam, that it could lift me
away from anxiety, to feel the back-scatter

of thoughts adrift
in blissful weightlessness; but
it is only an apotheogen, whereas I long
for the Empatheon, because
dawn differs with
The way I live, to be forgotten, but I'm still here
living all my low effort heroes.

Sometimes I get low but it's alright,
I have my heroes.

It's OK to let go. Release,
Regrow/move,

Replant your soul;
Live on
225 · Aug 2024
Mod Cons
'All the mod cons' they say, as if a few appliances
make up for an extortionate cage.

Despite my loathsome tech salary
I struggle to find a place
I could live out

a healthy and dignified existence
from in our capital city.
All the modern conveniences,
None of the comforts of the past.
225 · Oct 2016
Title (optional)
I wrote you a poem but
"                                           "
I deleted it instead of posting.
Quote:
Line Two-INPUT_MISSING_FUNCTION-

I wish I could feel enough to write with conviction.
225 · Jul 2022
On The Cusp
I am apprehensive about dating,
It's something I feel I should pursue
while I'm still young; part of me wishes
to come closer, yearning for someone other,
To stand outside oneself and be with another.

Another part of me takes comfort in solitude,
My old soul is content, the sun goes down.
There are times when I reject warmth
and feel the cold universe
run through me;

Eternity is always just a few moments away,
Seeking the edge of chaos, searching for someone
intelligent, decent.
225 · Sep 2019
Out Of The West
The thought struck me,
How long it has been.
How long it seems,
But I wonder

whether it's that
you learn to live with a cleft heart
or that you replace a part here and there
until it no longer resembles whatever you once felt.

Memory's at the chasm. Guilt,
I wish I'd been better. Say I look better. D'I feel better?
What to do other than write ode to GABA, one for the Irish.

Earlier I took a low dose of phenibut,
Three-quarters of a gram,
Perhaps equivalent to a pint.
Mild result, tired now, my eyelids
are heavy with the experience of it all.
I fall asleep
to Skinshape's
Left With A Gun.
224 · Nov 2023
Dissoneiroserpentes
I dreamed a pair of desert cobras
were wrapped around my torso
running up to my left shoulder.

I felt their movement across me
and their weight, I did not flinch
but staggered, wary. I've been told

there's no malice in me, of this I'm certain.
Why then do I carry these walterinnesia aegyptia as a burden?

In Ancient Greece the toxotai were held in contempt,
They never placed themselves in physical danger
and so were not seen to be courageous. I've
indulged in dissociation, been captive
in a town of "nothing but snakes".
I ask you to blow out the three poisons
of my soul, three unwholesome roots. I ask:

If I inhale the clouds,
Will you exhale for me
?
223 · Jun 2023
Unfinished Pleasures
These festive weekends
cause such thoughts to stir in me, longing to understand
the person, our being here, these notions.

I find it difficult to feel pleasure, I am too concerned
with aponia.

Substance should be used with intention,
We must intend authentically.
I feel I could do so among them,

That I could trust
and be vulnerable.
in their presence;
At the heart of any analytic or scientific endeavor is logic,
Simple components used to build more complex propositions
which picture a way the world could be.

Any logical statement can be true or false
depending on its validity
and correspondence with the world.

The issue of correspondence, of soundness, will always foreground any application of logic to the world.

Logic can sate that analytic desire for objectivity or universality but this comes at the cost of certainty.

There is a limit to the amount of simultaneous precision one can impose upon the world.

Regardless of whether it is in the spatial, temporal, or cognitive domain, the nature of focus is exclusionary.
One cannot know with exactitude, both position and momentum, time and frequency, being and becoming, and so on.

Our ability to use logic is critical to us, it is a defining human characteristic and indeed is that thing which enables us to be critical.

The application of logic, representation and an ability to turn in unto itself (i.e. to verify its internal coherency) is its power.
Logic is always applied for purposes.


At the heart of poetry is the act of poiesis, the process of creation which reconciles mind and world.

We may say this of any artistic or aesthetic process (and indeed, art will abuse logic or go against reason for the sake of expression).

Such a process indubitably corresponds to the world in the instances of its creation, and there is certainty as to its correspondence.

What’s more, an aesthetic may be felt by others.
The logical contents of a poetic sentence may be invalid
but can still be meaningful (for otherwise it would not be poetic).

Poetry and lyric are inextricably bound up in language.
They closely track the threshold of reason and logic, but toe the line.

The possibility for meaningful communication arises independent from the probability of logical communication.
Meaning need not correspond to logic.
However, aisthesis is in the eye of the beholder,
and in this way art has is own issue of correspondence which is between others; thus it is an issue of interpretation.

Where logic strives for objectivity and is left with uncertain truths,
Poetry strives for inter-subjectivity but does not know it’s reach.


So things can be connected by meaning and felt as well as by cause and reasoned, but the relationship between meaning and causality then
is not a logically necessity
so much as meaningful necessity.

To establish a firmer contact between the two domains, we must constrain them through a practical bridge. There are many such crossings, but the stability of this bridge is most apparent in poetry.

Looking closely we see a relationship between phenomenal signs
and we fill in the empty spaces with proposed causes
such that it fulfills both meaning and logic.
The downfall of analytic philosophy
is its disdain for poetry.
220 · Nov 2019
Pharmacophenomenology
My ventures into substance, be they
pharmacological or pharmacopathic, have me;
And I, ever-curious as to their nature, sought counsel
in psychoactives as if they were an extension of myself, being.

Were they, those instances, representative of a coupling
that bears upon my cognitive system, or was I engaging
in pathetic fallacy on an altered scale.

What's that intuition
some of us have come across in our travels, that
each mode of hallucination
shines a new light on abiogenesis, and on the end
of life itself; allows us to sit with it

and ease into those concepts, where self
is among it's reflection, we muse on
being, content with the universe.
215 · Mar 2018
Nyktelion Disclosure
This darkness, its warmth; those moments,
Their permanence, they're permanent; these
words ring with something I will not abandon,

Something real; it locks part of my soul, listening
for two minutes and forty-two seconds to the sound
of lake control.
The light of my laptop feeds my knowledge-hungry mind
through a pair of data-dilated eyes. Perhaps we should
forgo the neuro- and just let those sleeping dogs lie.
Some bad habits
are etched into us.

I drank Havana Club
'tres años' to ring 20β2 in,

Surrounded by a few friends
(and honored to call them such),

I worry sometimes they're too good
for me. I am torn by my history, in 20ζ2

I am between selves.
I reach for you, because
I miss that rueful innocence
we had, when our only concern
was so venturous.
214 · Aug 2023
Apostatic
G-town hasn't changed.
Same city, different crowd.
Year-in, year-out.

All the same "His Praise Remains
unto Ages of Ages"
across this weathered domain.

Old highs, new lows. Homesick for infinity
and lost in the throes.

Another pub, club, afters, rave. I forget sometimes
the world is not such a malevolent place.

Same conversation, different heads.
Once I felt more connected, now I am far away.
Been meaning to take an empatheogen with someone

to remind me
the world is not such a malevolent place.
People are all that matter.
On Sunday I took 350 micrograms
of dimethoxybromoamphetamine,

In the afternoon I prayed

to the drives which animate us,
beseeching them:

To be mindful,
To clear intentions,
To care for myself, and
share in the good life
.
Their presence caused me to soften.
I accept that I'm not in control.
I want to be better for them.
I am in contemplation.
213 · Sep 2023
Longing, Indomitable
Strange that I missed those gray skies
and places I've hated in shallow moments
and glacial moods. I suffered such confusion.
My shadow told me: I wouldn't know what to do
with someone. I realize I am splitting, these runaway
valuations have me reckless and lost, out on the borders
my lines are crossed.

"When I was younger I could not concentrate", she said.
That really stuck with me, because I'd been there
and found it happening to me once again.

My consciousness locks up, its parts bristle in anarchic chaos,
Incoherent, indominant. I am bedridden into the afternoon,
Indecisive, fetal. I muse on possible chemical motivation:

The unsubtle euphoria of dexamphetamine,
The warm excitement of a phenidate,
The cold focus of an adrafinal,
The brutish pyrovalerone,
And my prescription
NDRI cathinone.

I get up, disconcerted, apathetic, yet I write this
just to prove that darkness can be a source of strength
when more wholesome platitudes fail.
I know those feelings of power are founded on something
unstable, unsustainable, cruel; yet here I am, in this moment with you.
Buproprion 150mg,
Phenylpiracetam/Citicoline 85/250mg,
Magnesium 375mg,
NAC 600mg.
Enough of this dark ****.
Asking me "bro, do you even know
how hard it is to **** yourself"
after taking potentially fatal doses
of various CNS depressants. I know

better than most. I cannot watch this.
Our lifelines are fragile things
and I shouldn't have to stare down Atropos
for anyone other than myself.
I wanna live.

"I want to hold on to the innocence I got".
We make our own fate, weaving stories
to tell ourselves, measuring the world
with them, and wearing our destinies out.
Another of our friends' died.

Quote:
Line Fourteen from It's Just A Lot by K.Flay
210 · Feb 2024
Indivision
Feeling that division
(Vivere Memento)
between the world of techne (these abstractions
of data) and the world of virtue (those intuitions
and stories). Those more meaningful, self-fashioned
but unscripted, a-textual. These to quantify
what is authentic, original, genuine.

It strikes me as near sacrilegious,
Intention mining,
Sentiment analysis,
Would it disenchant us, and profane
our living narratives. They would strip us of those
vestiges, and even belief: cognitive liberty
is the freedom to believe
in your story,
To feel that it matters.

Perhaps I lost it, ruminating
too long over my conclusion.

Remember To Live.
Next page