Almost two years ago I wrote about how he told me
that we always had to question ourselves,

Almost two years later I read about the works of
Descartes, Aristotle, and other influential philosophers,



I begin to question all I know,
from whether the finger I write with writes what I or what it wants,

I’m skeptical of whether I am;
If I am, why? Why me?

I also realise how irrelevant it is
for me to worry about feelings and love and pain,

Almost two years ago I wrote daily
about myself as an object with experience

Now I write with skepticism
What’s the point anyways?