I like to pretend that I am embarking upon a journey

I like to pretend that I am embarking upon a journey
that will transform me into something extraordinary.
I like to believe that my thoughts are escaping as rigorous forms
into a magnificent ethereal library.
I’m sitting in bed and scratching my head and wondering why
The transformation has yet to transpire.
The meatself is still breathing and aching and seeing
through a glass darkly–through eyes burning redly, rendered
pathetic and dim by decades of pieces of plastic
that are anything less than fantastic–
some future race will call contact lenses insanity,
or perhaps the mark of our precious vanity,
or the sign that humanity
had lost its priorities.
At any rate, while my vain eyes burn and stare at the screen
I seek to take my literal visual situation out of the equation
In favor of faith for things that the eyes have not seen.
I begin reaching inwardly, but I don’t make it that far,
My throat’s kind of sore, from too much beer and not enough water–
Too many nights pretending that my soul doesn’t matter
With the Bible closed and the Internet wide open
I’m always hoping to discover
That magical article about quantum particles
Leaping chaotically outside of comfortable time,
Outside of this aching meatself of mine.
That somehow a smart scientist will confirm my suspicion
That at least some of my religion and spirituality
Are not complete bunk,
Though perhaps not precisely what I’d thought
They really were in the grand scheme
Of what really is.
More prosaically, I should add that I hoped to unlock the key
That prevents me from connecting with humanity.
Some would say it’s my ingrained insanity,
Others would argue it’s my superficial vanity,
At any rate I might agree that many of my priorities
Are far too out of whack for any future, would-be friends to have my back.

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