A Dream of Being
As I bob about the cosmological soup,
a one-legged amoeba circling a tiny corner of the Petri,
I entertain myself with ideas of potency and purchase.
I catch echoes of myself in the aether
and recognize my own operating system running in the background.
The search for Self has produced nothing but, and I marvel at my immenseness.
Finding neither comfort nor fear I return to contemplating the mundane, and prefer not to engage the loneliness that has been revealed.
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