anti-matter

I remember.
I remember pacing around my room
interrogating you like a
suited lawyer interrogates a
guilty suspect sitting on that podium.


you.
you converse with the guilty, who are like you -
suddenly
mute.
I remember pontificating on the
stage of my room, on that
isolated, childhood
soapbox.
no longer am
i afraid of the ghosts
that swim all around
lighting up my room, yet
they are still there.
You were the brightest one
of all, taking their light
away form them, yet you say
you give it all to them.
you lair,
you
homunculus.
You are an anti-matter
photon, which, coming in
contact with regular photons,
explodes bright light but in
essence you are not
darkness but
emitting
anti-
light.
you can fade out of reality
with, eventually, everything
else as i discover reality to be
anti-reality.

I.
I, raise my head to you
realizing through all the
searching, that nothing in
the world makes any
god damn sense.
as my final repose
I ask you, solemn and
blank, being open,
if the opposite of
reality is chaotic interpretation, or
is it really
thinking
that you live in a realistic world,
while you have
no idea what
any of that means?
because,
what is reality,
but being completely grounded
and gratified?
in that world,
our world,
interpretation would do nothing
and if it touched our world,
this world,
matter would collide with anti-matter
with explosions and
anti-explosions.




with no answer from you, which i have
never had,
I grovel on the floor.

"dear lord, most high, non existent:
thank you for this world
which also does not
exist."

Fri, Mar 28, 2008  Permanent link