I know who you are,
but I don’t exactly know
who you are to me, so
do I really know who you are?
I know who I am,
but I don’t exactly know
who I am to you,
nor even may I know
who I am to myself, so
do I really know who I am?
I know what I feel,
but I don’t really know
what I know about what I feel, so
do I feel what I feel?
I know what I see,
but I don’t really see
what I know, so
do I see?
I hear what the world says,
but I can’t hear
what I say, so
do I hear anything at all?
I walk my own steps,
but I don’t know
where the road ends, so
am I really going anywhere?
I know why the sun sets
and why falls the night,
but I don't know
why there isn't another
rosy return rosy return rosy return
for the mere man, so
is he all about the night
and his life but a dream?
What do I know of the things I know?
What do I see in the world I see?
What do I know of the things I feel?
Where do I walk to if it’s just a dream?
And if it’s a dream,
whose dream may it better be?
05/05/2025
Hirondelle
I marvel at how differently each of us may see certain things in life and accordingly have different feelings about it. I marvel a lot more at how people spend hours engaged in some petty talk whose script is quite predictable. It is bizarre that this could be happening in a world where uncertainty is the only certainty and change is the only constant in life.
It is no wonder, you will find some other people drawn to a solitary corner enjoying the 'skepticism party' in their heads. They are more often devoid of human company at this wild party, popping their own champagne and spilling taste and color on the ever-changing reality. What is party to the skeptic is discomfort and trouble for the nonchalant. The latter will prefer some small talk under a superscript.
For me life is beautiful, for it offers us plenty of riddles and a clever mind will relish this plethora of choices. Prescriptive texts, however, ruin the party transforming the thinker into a believer, converting the traveler into a waiter. With all the questions answered, there is no party for the believer. With all the treat put on the tray, they will suddenly find themselves holding the snack tray to others enjoying the party thinking that they are still a guest.
So, whose party, whose dream?