I'm a wayward wayfarer
People see my explicitness
My connotations
remain
obscure.

"I see."
"Said the blind man to his deaf wife,
sitting at a round table, trying
to find a corner."
-Frustrating words from my first girlfriend
------------------------------------------------------­-

It's funny how as I age the layers of irony get wiped away
while building up again like waves.
Stability I crave seems at odds
with cosmic horror I face.
Weeping with a whole soul
or is it laughter?
In the intensity "I" tend towards confusion.
I mention this to my mother and she knows not
of ambiguous sounds. The fusion of emotion
suffering in our translation.
Do we differ
or are we lost;
Embracing simulacra while our true selves wander alone?
Wondering.

The child peeks past a mask or two and gets spooked.
Out of love I withdraw inside nativity.
I am here with you.

Talking to ourselves.

“You are the universe in ecstatic motion.” –Rumi

I am endless infinite possibility,
a Boltzmann brain fluctuated from the
furious buzzing entropy thrilling the
scattered melted formless universe,
collapsed into the thin singularity string of
an impossible human being.
The world is testament to my stunning genius
a grand hallucination of my own creation
and I am my own invention.

anything is possible. i don't mean this in a good way.

will you look at me while i'm talking?
not like that.
i know you are.
i want you to see me. i want you to keep up.

i could go completely ******* crazy.
i could never speak to any of my friends ever again.
i could join a fundamentalist christian cult.
i could drop out of college.
i could look into the mirror and see my own eyes reflected back to me, or gouge them out to be free of the burden. i could do anything, but it's all a matter of actualization.

you have to know what you're looking for
before you go out to find it.
the story the eyes try to sell you is always leaving something out.
you want this to be easy. you want the mirror to have a purpose.
don't we all?
you want to know what you want, but we are all stumbling blindly through this desert.
alone despite being inches from one another.
i'll try not to get too cocky,
because the only difference between you and me
is concept, language;
life is a whole other beast to cage.

don't get too hung up on definitions.
definitions are for law. this is poetry.
this is me building a mirror just to break it.
it's funny, how that always turns out.
realized desires are boring.
we get what we want
and we break it.
every mirror shatters in the end
and we all die a solipsist,
wanting and narcissistic.

In a universe where nothing could be everything
and everything could be nothing
I wake up blinded by the sun and my weak eyes struggle to conform
but her power desires me

In a universe where silence can ring ears
and actual sirens can calm them
My engine rustles with promise as I drive down the unpaved road
I am cement, and spill out of my windows into the potholes as I pass
Shadows of trees fold over behind me as outlines of roofs emerge
one day I’ll drive and count them all

In a universe where we worship time
but it repays by pilfering our youth
I make out silhouettes through the strands of my ***** hair
Your tie taunts me, perched confidently on the base of your neck
My fears in the flesh, enveloped in dark eyes and strong posture
one day I’ll face him eye to eye  

In a universe where we long for love
but company deludes us
I eat dinner alone at a table for six
and stare longingly through one of my three big windows
My mom probably called but my phone’s been on silent
one day I’ll get free time and call her back

In a universe where nothing could be everything
and everything could be nothing
My pillow steals my thoughts for the closing hours of the night
and I ponder on how much of me it’ll return when I wake up in the morning

Solipsism
(10.16.2020)
—adrianatamara

It's your problem when you disregard God's voice, not mine.

No matter how you "perceive" it, the reality of the state of those suffering whom you callously disregard, saying "all is well" in your unloving indifference, remains unchanged.

-Sitting in empty places
Tempus fugit ad infinitum
Galactic seas beaming on starlight yet seem empty
Everything seems empty
Inwardly directed infinitely
Empty space is-