deepundergroundpoetry.com
Here
It’s not that I don’t like it here, it’s just that I don’t know
where here is.
Is “here” defined by where you are,
or by where you are not?
Is “here” static,
general,
a location?
Or does it change with every passing moment?
Dictated by our senses.
Is here ever the same as it was just a second ago?
It’s not that I don’t like it here, it’s just that I don’t know
how to be here.
Like there’s a pattern on the sidewalks I've yet to unlock with my steps.
Some sort of secret door that opens up into
“there.”
Because that’s what it feels like:
Like I am on the outside of a door to the place I know I could be in but I don’t know which key it is.
And like a bad horror movie I have too many keys and not enough time because I can feel whatever evil is coming if I don’t get to
where I need to be.
It’s not that I don’t like it here, it’s just that I don’t know
why I’m here.
Did I choose it?
I don’t remember picking this.
Or has every single one of my decisions simply led me to this point?
A simple equation of choices with “here” as the outcome.
What if I chose differently?
Is it too late to go back?
This place doesn’t feel right for me, excuse me,
is there any way to change my mind?
No, I don’t know to what…
I’m just trying to find the meaning to all of this.
It’s not that I don’t like it here, it’s just that I don’t know
who I am supposed to be
here.
Just another body in another space;
What does it even mean to be someone?
Having interests, friends, hobbies, passions?
That can’t be all there is to an identity.
How do I know who I am?
Do any of us have any of these things,
or are we all just products of our environment?
Are we blank slates inside,
characters programmed to interact with certain people
engage in certain tasks
think certain thoughts.
It’s not that I don’t like it here
it’s just that I don’t know what it means to be here.
where here is.
Is “here” defined by where you are,
or by where you are not?
Is “here” static,
general,
a location?
Or does it change with every passing moment?
Dictated by our senses.
Is here ever the same as it was just a second ago?
It’s not that I don’t like it here, it’s just that I don’t know
how to be here.
Like there’s a pattern on the sidewalks I've yet to unlock with my steps.
Some sort of secret door that opens up into
“there.”
Because that’s what it feels like:
Like I am on the outside of a door to the place I know I could be in but I don’t know which key it is.
And like a bad horror movie I have too many keys and not enough time because I can feel whatever evil is coming if I don’t get to
where I need to be.
It’s not that I don’t like it here, it’s just that I don’t know
why I’m here.
Did I choose it?
I don’t remember picking this.
Or has every single one of my decisions simply led me to this point?
A simple equation of choices with “here” as the outcome.
What if I chose differently?
Is it too late to go back?
This place doesn’t feel right for me, excuse me,
is there any way to change my mind?
No, I don’t know to what…
I’m just trying to find the meaning to all of this.
It’s not that I don’t like it here, it’s just that I don’t know
who I am supposed to be
here.
Just another body in another space;
What does it even mean to be someone?
Having interests, friends, hobbies, passions?
That can’t be all there is to an identity.
How do I know who I am?
Do any of us have any of these things,
or are we all just products of our environment?
Are we blank slates inside,
characters programmed to interact with certain people
engage in certain tasks
think certain thoughts.
It’s not that I don’t like it here
it’s just that I don’t know what it means to be here.
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