Indeed, it would seem
That life is based in something deeper.
Steeped in something stronger.
But it only seems so,
And most people stop at the 'seem',
Never make it to the 'is'.
Most stop before the questioning begins.
It's always vexing,
Why do they do that?
Just accept things.
Move on.
Drifting lost little souls.
No discourse to call their own.
No philosophy to take root in.
It leads to shallow graves and shallow minds,
It is always ends
So close to beginning.
Why does it occur as such?
Conversation
Is so very surface-level.
I am guilty as much as everyone else,
But oh, why?
Why is it all the why it is?
Which philosophy will explain this?
Which discourse will show me the way?
When will I be able to talk intelligently?
When does it click into place,
The knowledge?
The ideas?
Lost.
Like suns without horizons.
Geez,
Why is it so difficult to get a handle
On
Anything?
If everything was tangible.
If I could run my fingers through thoughts
Like one can do with a handful of sand.
Nothing works.
All falls a little bit,
Sags under the weight of life.
And the bridges get burned,
The walls built.
Destroyed.
I'm not sure what it all means.
Not sure at all.
All I am sure of
Is this conflict rising in my mind
Will soon some to blows.
In the madness,
I think I will find one answer.
That's the best-case scenario...
And, really,
I wish you weren't so kind.
Your sincerity kills me sometimes,
You're sweet.
But would you be so kind
As to let our hands brush?
Because when you stand so close,
And say things as you do,
It's heart-wrenching.
Why is that?
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