Oldest ways that don’t work well are hard to release
Since their roots have grown deeper than had been conceived.
I placate the delusion that I am a plant,
So pretending I can’t move is something I can’t
Do without some deception in what is perceived
As the present reality ceases to cease.
How the fractal evolves do I not mind to see?
Only in my best daydreams does motion occur.
I can call that illusion committing no sin
But of day to day living where do I begin
To Be sense while within it as I would prefer?
If someone knows the answer, don’t notify me.
Normally my perceptions of reality
Are distorted sufficiently, so I’m aware
Of some things that some others may not easily.
The reverse is true also. Together all see
What no single one can, and the vision I share
Cluelessly of consciousness must satisfy me.
Joining with the collective while widely awake
Daunts the hell out of daylight wherever it’s shown.
Where within the abnormal my heart would reside,
Does exist still the need that I must feel the pride
That I feel is deserved? And do I speak alone
In a bubble unnoticed and for no one’s sake?