proof that i’m alive
pinch me bruise me cut me break me. i need to prove that i’m real. the collective said, imagination, that’s all i am. a projection. i see the lights how i like them. most see them different. but i would never know. i’m surprised that i forget, there is so much pain to remind me of life. happening. it’s just happening, it’s said. not happening TO ME. i keep taking that personally. why do i have to keep being told that i’m not important. i already knew that. ya, ya… shut. UP! i didn’t need more voices. i think too often, so that my body gets mad, twitches. sometimes i have to slap myself, to prove that i can feel my inside from out. i wonder… where is the barrier of self? i’d guess it is the skin, until i cut it needing to dig around for a splinter. it feels different than digging around my insides.
i started to think that my gut is part of my brain. it tells me which things are going to hurt most. then i do them. i like to defy the mind by torturing the body. advertise that i’m broken, not for pity, to attract more. despair is interesting. negative emotion is easy to prove. i wear it on my barrier, the interface can’t always show my feelings.
i think i want less to know how much is necessary, but then convince myself of adding more efficiency. i told myself many times that i want to experience everything. especially the worst of humanity. but how useful is a someone that is truly, exhaustively, broken. i’m convinced that’s the step before transcendence. maybe i just don’t want to be here. is that what all the monks are looking for? guess i don’t have to look, they are probably better at it. so i play hide n’ seek. convinced, this method will be close enough to know god, or spirit, or the mother of living things.
confidence is proving that you can do, by having done. a subjective proof. trust. in action. it only truly comes when you unburden from control, the need, to everything.
decartes was wrong. the more i allow my self to think, the less i am. the more i do, the less i am. the more i hurt, the more i believe.
i am not: ‘am’
i think: ‘i am alive’
wishing i believed that
so i didn’t have to prove it every time.
