The internal monologue masquerades as a dialogue

Language in my mind.
For what purpose do I use it? To formulate ideas? I think not. To articulate notions that already exist in my consciousness, to help understand and process them? I think so.
How can I 'speak' of 'I' in my head? What is my head? My mind? Yes. Mind.
Once aware it is ever-present, a feeling perverse and alien. Alien within myself? It feels like the keeping of an internal diary. I am telling ME about the world, about my life, about experience. Do I experience?
Am I two entities? Two streams of consciousness? Or two entities and one stream?
The soul.
Is the soul supposed to be what is dictating or what is listening?

When we have all the answers will we still dream?

One of the main reasons for philosophy is one that is shared by religion: we do not have all the answers, yet.

Without answers we can ponder, question, consider, hope, fear.

Should we fear scientific progress? Is there a reason for holding on to a romantic idea of life? Why should we cherish our abstract imprint?
That is; ignorance.

Again, connotations of words confuse matters.
Ignorance <-----> Knowledge
Negative <-----> Positive
?
Why?

Clinging on to fascination.
Is natural human inquisitiveness at odds with itself? We need to know and we need to question. As we know more we have less to question. Or do we?
Will there always be questions?

Desire, Blind Choice

If we are ruled by desire then are we not surely ruled by a pursuit of what we want?
And if it is what we want then how can it be bad? To be a slave to desire is only bad when an aversion to slavery is introduced.
It is a misuse of terms.

In this way, if we exercise choice just so that we can call ourselves human, but that choice is against our desire, are we not merely punishing ourselves?
What is our abstract idea of humanity worth?

Why Are You Afraid?

To overcome death
We must first accept
That life as we know it
Isn't what's left.

Visitations by infinite forces
Lead us to be deluded
So
Dreams may tell us
And we think we deserve
But we're caught up
In wishful valour
And hopeless verve.

The result is ever closer
Than we first thought and think
We address them in their masses
And prepare to slowly sink.

We wave goodbye
At the harbours of our brain
So sad to see them leave
We now have all the time
Left in the world
To contemplate and grieve.

Suddenly, An Eternally Fleeting Truth

What if... ebbs away?
What of..? It diminishes.
Or of..? It will deteriorate, undoubtedly.
They are already not what they were. If the whole declines, how can I justify myself?
Is not a realisation of mediocrity the best route? There is only pride at stake. It involves no one else.

What do I value?
What do others value in me?
Does this answer my question, or is it all still subjectivity?
Useless and unnecessary?
Why should I have confidence in myself?
Do I need it?
Am I thinking outside of myself?
What of my needs?
Does a person need to be delusional?
Am I speaking of life, or of existence?
The personal I or the societal we?
Does anything matter?

Welcome the Relief

It is written in the stars
meetings and meetings in bars
we'll laugh and play the game
though it's always the same

The air is tight
nobody has the right
to tell us anymore
what it is we're doing
we're only young and poor

We prefer when it flows
forget the feelings in our hands and our toes
what we know is not desire
forget the passion, the morning fire

If only our memories
did not serve us well
bodies abused, existing
only for what we sell

We force ourselves to comply
fear of the lonely I
two is safer for life
you; my husband, my wife

Ever Hopeful

What is the point in holding
On to a negative youth?
When existence turns it back
The fragrance exposes truth.

The world, an entity
Given life; it did not take
We modify the boundaries
We know; it is not fake.

We exaggerate, but are real
Always with a dare to feel
Evil, moronic, sarcastic flight
Always with a task to write.