..and the days are all the same
not in the context of context
but in the context of time;
thirty one
and back to one
to confirm that the existence of one
in infinity
is the same as the value of anything,
the value of anyone.

I don’t believe in the things I say
and so should you,
but you can play, yeah,
come and play
and discover that the you in me is the same as the me in you
so tomorrow we can forget…
basked in the stream of thoughts
flowing from their heads to our heads
and back to theirs
to be eaten, munched, processed–
like every other thought that came in their heads–
in my head, which proved to be false when the sun
from the east rose and swallowed me whole in my balcony
for a moment– vomiting me back to the next day;
to a tomorrow that never came
because it was replaced, displaced
by a new today.

I was tricked, again!
I was promised a sudden death, every day,
but the coin toss just doesn’t happen to fall in heads–
just in tails,
giving me the chance to throw it, throw it, throw it…
every single second of every single day
only to find out that I’ve run out of luck– luck! – such a strange thing to say
when I am the master of this ship,
tattered, battered, as it happens to be
but still
with sails high, aiming for raging seas, storms…
it was not meant to stay in one place,
it was meant to sink at sea.

inspired by “Invictus” – William Ernest Henley


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