Yes, I want to read me the
Tao Te Ching
today. Or some Gödel,
Heisenberg, and absurd Zen koans
I am bored, please
electrify me with
antinomies and mind-fucks.
The day has gone too
straight; it is too
Coldplay.
I hang my world by the
gossamer void
I churn senses, from the
flux of campus shootings,
failing dams, and the soil
that melts like
skin of a zombie in some
B-grade Hollywood flick.
I am not complaining. I am
just playing an archdiocese
of my existential
territory , on a day that stretches like a
global-warming debate on
internet.
And believe me, it is
still better than kissing ass
of a self-help guru,
reading a truly depressing inspirational
quote on Facebook, or
doing any other philosophical
gymnastics on ethics or
meaning of life.
But you know what? I know
a face which has not
learned to pretend
yet. And that will do fine
to make a God from
the porcelain of my rosy dreads.