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I am a fool of a student. My skepticism makes me a fool. I am a parasite in the belly of your Buddha. When will your enlightenment teach you to hate me? Is your grip an in and out of the moebius strip? To inhabit both sides of an idea? Does an idea encompass both sides? Is to have an opinion to be a fanatic? To know nothing an infuriating refutation of responsibility, a posture, a giving in–or the truth? Does your opinion change with point in time and were you wiser when you were younger, are you corrupt now? Is age an obfuscation, a veil? Do you think about what’s to eat all day long and are you above an animal? Are you only worried for your own hide?

You got your traction way down the line, a branch of a branch and you took it for a rule. You took an empirical phenomenon, a loop-de-loop, as an indication for the whole. You thought a word was absolute, your institution infallible, but the chimpanzees live in a house of cards.

Lady

One Response

  1. I like this poem very much (yes it’s a poem) but regarding sentence number four, my response is: “Never, you’re far too lovable for that.”

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