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Sometimes, I’m imagining Sometimes, I’m remembering. Sometimes, I’m looking. Sometimes, I’m listening. Sometimes, I’m experiencing physical sensations. Sometimes, I’m aware of “lost time”, as if I have just resumed consciousness. I have no memory of the intervening time.
Sometimes, I’m talking to myself. Sometimes, my flesh hurts. Sometimes, my organs gurgle. Sometimes, I’m surprised. Sometimes, I’m aware of my breathing. Are all of these my awareness travelling around? I am always breathing, whether aware or not. Am I always doing all the rest?
Sometimes, I discover myself in indulgent, comfy loops... "With these words he drained a richly cut tumbler at a draft, and flung it into the air, thereby to signify the excess of pleasure by destroying the vessel which had served for such a solemn occasion."
my problem my perception of my problem leads to my response to my problem. my response to my perception is my tension which feeds my perception that i am not my problem. my perception is my problem not my tension which is my response.
/2 My response to My tension is this poem. My perception is that My poem is not My problem but the solution to My tension. I is non-existent but this poem now exists...
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