Prismatic Life

Life is but an immense
convoluted prism
Each moment of uncertainty is
forever an untraversed schism
With the universe the Gods
may not have played dice
But Mother Nature will mindfuck you
not once or even twice

We find the truth after
shredding a thousand lies
Let the glass shards pierce
the ominous sky
In which the Great Triangle
still has us all mesmerized

We’re all but fragments of broken
dreams, fears, and frustrations
Mere slices of time like
the multitudes of constellations
Fires in the firmament
in a melancholic December
Cosmic flowers will be thrown on
our graves only She will remember

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Dawn of a New Derealization Part 2

I lost my head
Lost my mind
Travelling through
this maelstrom of time

Life through a
surreal movie screen
Pixelated quantum bitch
Takes another dose
of fluoxetine

Fragments of myself
Sliced once, sliced twice
Here is my GMO Apple
Come over here and take a byte

All the faces at which I stare
Now look like clowns
Fragments of myself
Spinning around and around

When time, space, and information
are gone, what’s left, bitch?
Another identity crisis
Another reality glitch

The circle of life is
now the circle of death
Like a perpetual game of Chess
To the synthetic bread and
electric circuses,
We all acquiesce

When all is said and done
It’s just more of the same
They’re all digitalized automatons
Struggling to win the game

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Coffee and Contemplation: A Perspective on Epistemology

In certain esoteric parlance, the epithet “light” is a rough allegory for “truth” or “knowledge”. If you want to be a bit more generous, the classic elemental equivalent to “truth” or “knowledge” could even be fire. From what I understand, this parallels the etymological derivation of the word “illuminate” which means to clarify, to explain, or to reveal, particularly in the context of some topic which is otherwise complicated or widely misunderstood.

A problem with popular media, including magazines and online articles, is their notorious tendency to oversimplify complex subject matter, especially science and other academia. Making a certain topic or body of knowledge easier to comprehend does not mean omitting or distorting relevant information, in which case, you are arbitrarily letting the light flicker in and out of focus, rather than allowing it to shine continuously. Only when you do the latter, are you truly illuminating or bequeathing truth upon your audience.

That being said, there is much epistemological validity in the usage of abstruse language and highly detailed explanations of phenomena about our world. The rest is a matter of either possessing the brightness of mind to sift through the dense tissue of concepts or not. In the end, we are responsible for our own illumination.

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Coffee and Contemplation: The Continuum of Reality

It has been said that “Life is not black and white, but shades of grey”, “black and white” being an allegory to artificial contours of extremes, or rather, the fallacious delineation of two characteristics (or two sets of characteristics) which are not mutually exclusive by default and “shades of grey” being an allegory to the spectrum of states which can exist between said extremes. The operative word is “shades”, implying a plurality, not a single shade of grey. It is just as epistemologically misguided to treat all shades of grey between the black-and-white binary as equivalent or identical to each other as it is to create the binary of black-and-white to begin with. (See “Continuum Fallacy”). First of all, life and the very fabric of reality, is not simple and it never will be insofar as the ubiquitous potpourri of atomic particles “magically” work together to create complexity. Secondly, it can be said, at least on a metaphysical basis, that no two seperate entities are ever completely identical, because where there are characteristics or traits, there is no true homogeneity. The shades of grey between black and white are roughly analogous to the similitudes and dissimilitudes between two categories. As one continues to analyze (if by “analysis”, we mean organic intellectual dismemberment) separate concepts, one can continue to find more and more similitudes between said concepts not previously cognized and, in the process, inadvertently discovering that reality is fluid, rather than based on fixed parameters. The corollary to this is that life is a continuum ranging from very, very dark shades of grey to very, very light shades of grey, but no matter how many shades of grey, all are distinguishable from one another to some extent.

Black-and-white thinking is one of many types of cognitively distorted thought processes commonly employed by people, be it on a conscious or subconscious level. Though it is irrational, it is nonetheless understandable why such a frame of mind is ubiquitous among us (fallible) humans. I suspect that such cognitive parsimony is an efficient (yet inaccurate) way of evaluating something when one is overwhelmed by the multitude of possibilities that can exist within a particular phenomenon. It is a way to tighten the reigns, as it were, in order to evade the need to think deeply about something, and then, move on to a different activity. However, the lack of awareness or acknowledgement of the many complexities in existence doesn’t belie the fact that they are there, notwithstanding human interpretation. After all, our perceptual and cognitive faculties truly are limited such that we can sense and comprehend only a minute fraction of all external stimuli in our world.

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Dawn of a New Derealization Part 1

In the midst of an austere morning
I wake up with eyes so dry and sore
I don’t want to live this absurd
existence anymore
Wrapped in a tourniquet of thoughts
An abstract cocoon
That no longer hides these
metaphysical wounds

Standing naked in the face of
a world so starless and cold
The mask of Dasein finally
falls down the rabbit hole
That never ends, only gets
deeper and wider
Cloudburst of liquid
infected every inch of my fire

Like the rays of a dying sun
Shit gets too real
So far away
I just want to run
Towards the cosmic playground
With stardust abound
To escape from your ugly wall of sound

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The Protracted Yet Ephemeral Tragicomedy of Life

Here we are, incarnations of complicated biological circuitry, which had, milenna ago, emerged from a chrysalis of pure thought and information waves, yet our relatively feeble minds have only an oblique and fragmentary comprehension of our own complexity as well as the complexity with which we are surrounded. We know nothing of even the sun and moon in any meaningful sense. We know how to roughly calculate their perimeters and radii and even their relative size to other celestial bodies, all so artfully contrived by some unfathomable super intelligence beyond our understanding. But we do not know the sun and moon in and of themselves nor why and how they came to be. Regardless, we instinctively rely on both to bestir ourselves from our nocturnal slumbers and to tranquilize ourselves into those very repetitions of somnolence, as if they are stage lights in a grand cosmic theatre which turn on when we are prepared to exhibit our psychological masks to an exponentially increasing audience and turn off when we decide the curtain needs to close. Upon the multichromatic light of dawn, we imbibe our xanthine-infused beverages to help us stay alert during these hard-pressed days of occupational stress, with a few activities thrown in, all of which serve to be scarcely more than ephemeral and absurd events anyway. Though fortunately, there are the few of us who question such trifling lifestyles, including, but not limited to, thoughtless material acquisition and extrinsically motivated actions. And those periods between dawn and dusk gradually become shorter and shorter with each passing year of our lives until there is nothing left, like thick, metallic gates that continually close on us until we are squeezed into oblivion. But, oh how we take them so seriously. We may even paint those gates some pretty colour to forget about the emptiness that lies behind them. True thinking has been replaced with cognitive short-cuts and peripheral knowledge-seeking and vitality with mere motion. What could be the causal agent? Is it mycotoxins? Xenobiotics? Some inauspicious change of energy filling our lungs? It has been said that man is reducible to mere matter and motion, and if so, do some men simply move slower and faster than others?

We all contain within ourselves the attitude of cynicism and the toxin of self-doubt, but some of us contain them in larger quantities than do others. Many of us face the existential paradox of wanting to be invisible until the happenings of nature parallel in our favour, yet wanting to create some sort of legacy for ourselves, which will be remembered for eons to come, like the ghost of our former selves which somehow come back to us and merge with our ‘present’ identities. Or the twelve specific constellations we carve out for our human purposes. But we can’t see those beautiful stars through all that fucking smoke of conflagrating sweet- and salty-scented bullshit wafting through the air. We all speak of and want progress, yet many still tenaciously adhere to their primitive human impulses. They plant their trees of self-preservation and throw their rotten fruit in your direction which they metaphorically wear like a badge of honour because it is the only thing they have ever truly created. Much of the time what is considered “progress” is really just an assortment of superficial embellishments to something that has been previously conceived and iterated ad nauseum, not unlike an old sweater that has been replaced with nothing more than better-looking threads and patchwork. Your sweaters are all ugly, Darling. Sub-remedial critical thinking still permeates our culture, probably more than ever, like with many an Internet blog that oversimplifies complex topics into a monstrous abridgment. Do I need to mention the ubiquity of sophomoric rhetoric, infantile synecdoches, and grotesque anthropomorphic “text” features? Many people fallaciously use the phrase “common sense” to mean unnecessary bifurcation of characteristics which are not even mutually exclusive to one another, ignoring the continuum on which everything exists. And this raises a question in my mind, Are such people capable of only mentally storing and processing two categories at a time? Such examples of limited cognition make it all the more ridiculous that many people indefatigably cling to the notion that humans are the most intelligent species that ever did and ever will live, ignoring the fact that we are mere infants in the Galactic age and that there are a myriad of planetary orbs with their own life-generating luminaries. What happens when the show is over? What happens when our images, transiently projected through those cosmic stage lights, finally proceed through the corridors of nothingness? What happens when our own sun falls victim to a life-ending explosion or perhaps even collapses into itself, losing its flame, transmuting into a dense black mass?

Then, the cycles of the cosmos will come full circle, and transfigure into a more captivating cosmic cinema than the one now. We cannot know for certain but, perhaps, somewhere in the future of our universal timeline, some extraterrestrial species, with a number of capabilities we can’t even begin to understand, is going to look down in history and, with a combination of amusement and disgust, is going to laugh at us and our inconsequential existences; our arrogance, our anthropocentric pathos, our limited abilities, and the defiled food supply we consume in abundance, polyphenols be damned. They philosophize better than we. Their synapses can fire at many times the rate as our own. Their diet consists of stardust with the decayed particles of our greatest historical genuises and some amino acid complex giving rise to their consummate physical, mental, and spiritual capabilties. Perhaps their bodies require no outside sustenance at all. Most of all, they know no suffering nor any of the limitations placed upon us, neither biologically nor environmentally.

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Elements of a Turbulent Love

One upon a cognition
a woman fell for a man
Who taught her things about herself
she didn’t quite understand

A sentimental logician
at the mercy of his lust
Yet she could analyze anything
until it was nothing but dust

Elements of a turbulent love
Like a tattered fabric of time
They came undone

A romance so complicated
More complicated than astrophysics
Maybe Venus fucked Pluto
They had a love so twisted

Stars can’t shine without darkness
It has been said
She could think of infinite ways to both
love and hurt her man

Each day he tested her limits
No one could make her feel
so dead yet so alive
But like the glass she shattered
She could cut through his lies

She could smell his bull shit
through the foggiest mist
As she threw him in the air
he got crushed by an ugly black abyss

Elements of a Turbulent love
Like a tattered fabric of time
They came undone

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