There is a fundamental question,
do I want to be? I try hard to want to say yes, knowing the parts of me that
deem it so logical to say no. These parties hold a pathetic argument. Neither
wants to speak too loudly into the microphone. So I go through my days neither
being or not being hazed in depression seeing little point to life, seeing my
being as an anchor for others and self-isolating to minimize the collateral damage.
Occasionally I can invent an illusion in digital correspondence until I say too
much or too little or utter what feels like the truth at the time. I laugh at
how simple a question like an infant that refuses to eat his food. Plop dumb
and squalid in a stink playpen. Shit in diapers. Refuse to develop the muscles
to stand and climb out.
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