Death may be forever
But it doesn’t matter, because you won’t notice.
If you’re an ironic enough person
You can use irony to completely disclaim
Anything that you say or do.
You can exist as some kind of miasma
Entirely uncommitted to your actions
Your beliefs shrouded in paradox and mismatch.
It would, perhaps, be a metaphysical practice,
If not for the level of self-consciousness or contrivance that is often involved.
Your brain never directly sees the light of day
Nor does it smell, feel or hear anything of its own accord.
Instead, it sits there, walled off
Inside the cavity of your skull
Drawing inferences from your nerves and sensory organs
Conjuring up a world of its own from all of this information
Filtering to fit with its biases
A computer, computing.
And yet, as far as we know
This is how you come to know the world and your experience in it.
Own your mistakes;
Be an equal participant
In the punishments that the universe
Inevitably dishes out.
Here’s an idea:
(…and not a unique idea).
Social media has normalised narcissism.
(…at least amongst some).
I can’t be the only one
Who thinks that a huge volume of people
And at the slightest provocation
Is a little suspicious.
Or perhaps it’s always been this way,
And the likes of Instagram has finally made the latent narcissism
Frictionless enough to manifest at scale?
Maybe it’s not narcissistic at all,
Maybe it’s just human nature.
The fuck do I know?
Either own what you’re doing
Or change it.
Get the fuck off of the couch,
Or be the greatest couch potato in the universe.
People concerned with morality
Are actually concerned with controlling others.
Put another way, they are concerned with power
And the ego’s base need to be ‘right’.