Friday, May 5, 2017

THE UPWARD SPIRAL

Almost makes you feel 
sick now
to keep doing 

slightly elevated
versions
of the same old things

that used 
to excite you.

You get vertigo
and make some puny excuse
and have to leave the room

after grappling
with the exasperating 
sensation—of trying to keep

your eyes 
on the only thing inside
that's still, while 

all that cartoon
scenery around you
keeps moving.

You can now suppose—
with your eyes closed

that freedom 
isn't a thing

or even a place—
it's just

the most frictionless
motion you can make,

and that
chasing after
ideals—means

you'll always be
running

around in a circle—
but

it's still considered
progress

as long as
you find yourself

never running
into parallel
predicaments.

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