to walk along blurred lines of the indefinite,
to hide behind shadows of doubts,
and to be surely unsure and seemingly unstable.
Change is constant,
when change is the constant.
Perhaps the only truth
among and underlying
all those known
to our limited senses prone
to bias and flaw.
When entropy is the end,
chaos is the order,
and so: order is chaos.
When then presents itself is a profoundly socio-biological paradox:
what we do,
To adapt: adjust: evolve: involve: our selves,
At the expense of whom?
Of you by me,
of me by you,
of we by he and she,
of us by them,
of ours by theirs...
The mutual murder of dialectical discourse furthers the shared agenda:
an equality that's mutually consensual
constructed on an equity that's purely contextual.
The compromise is contracted,
and it demands sacrifice:
a constant contestation:
the needless negotiation—
forming a truth that's between tentative
Some kind of equilibrium whose balance is contrast;
an investment in the arbitrary entropy of the situationship.