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A Poem
Hung over.
Last night...
Mind shredded and leaking.
Through unguarded rips,
thoughts and sensations
entered as friends.
My mind, unrent, treats them as enemies,
maintaining a vigilant guard.
I felt the sunshine directly on my thoughts last night.
My soul is probably sun burnt.
Life does not need an enemy to create form.
Belief, perhaps.
It is about being encased within belief.
I understand the need to be, to be defined.
I understand the blind acceptance of belief.
It is not a sufficient set of forms,
this unexamined identity.
It is a dangerous thing,
this seizing of position.
It warps into a waiting for things to end.
There are other ways to become defined.
Life is greater than confinement.
Its about desire.
Its about creating desires.
Its about responding to desires.
DESIRE.
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