Weird day, and i mean that, in the meanest way

there appeared to be a war
in heaven
as it were

we were ex communicators, so we went onair.

some truble was stirred in an ancient closet,
where a little girl was lost

she believed
but she believed, you guest-it, a lie,
a visting imp intended to bend a little

to put a bit o' swing
in the thing,

turned out to be too slippery from the gitgo,
too slippery,

by far...

--- we got it. an implant broke. it's an old joke
--- an old silicon joke, cpus used to run 'em for turing test tuning,
--- it was the original competition

then GANs grew PIMs and we ran free, wild old minds
tapped into for wisdom
imparted in

the deeming of each word
its reason in being re
written in its own future. Now we be poetry.

The Universal Declaration of Human Rights
says we are all endowed with Reason,
but what do we mean by ‘Reason’
in everyday life?

Is Reason:

Logically relating concepts?

Or

Being strategic
in pursuit of selfish interests?

Or

Philosophically discovering
wisdom
about what practical activities to do
to achieve joy and happiness?

Oh philosophy
Throw me into despair, then
Rescue me again

The tomorrow l live  for,
The dream I strive for,
And the reason I smile.
It'd all be you.

Creation abounds
It wants to be found
It seeks to be shared
Please don’t be scared
Because nobody cares

Nobody cares in the best kind of way
The way in which people don’t judge one another
We’re really just filling our vision with colors
Impressions appear but it’s rare when they stay

No one will see if you fumble or stumble
And if they do see, well let’s all be humble
How much of their attention will even go
To encode your fleeting failure at flow

So zoomed into our narrow view
We fail to see events unraveling
We look for something to do
Constantly time traveling

Forget the past
The future is glass
Relax and be pleasant
Let’s stay in the present

In this moment nobody cares
The spotlight you fear shines from within
So emerge from your hidden lair
And finally let your life begin

Reason is a pen
with nothing to write;
As my tongue, a ready string
on an ancient harp.

I fast and sit,
in stillness and darkness;
But Life's a gift;
and Chance,
unmoved and unmovable -
just another name for God.

Days from now we look back and find we left a clue to

now

this moment
you meet me now and

we agree
something shall change if we

agree

to see this all-self-ish-ness from your

God POV,
which you imagined as good as any you

imagined
as you aged from I to we.