2022-xx

a poem written in iambic hexameter
2023-01-01 01:00
// updated 2025-11-09 13:13
regarding boredom as a precious luxury 
remembering when products used to last longer 
seeing "society" split into two (or three) 
continuing to see through the propaganda? 

defining "misinformation" as "things they hate" 
questioning the sustainability of faith 
finding mixed results with certain experiments 
needing to shrug off a pair of disappointments

diverging so greatly from the common nonsense 
knowing that the dam must break eventually 
disobeying rules when they no longer make sense 
observing the cult phenomena of each side 

retreating into the rural zones of the web 
experiencing relief after this strange week
trying not to initiate interaction 
lakes of coherence but oceans of dissonance 

running full speed into the new orthodoxies 
moving way past the point of convincing others 
aiming to build new things than to fix all that broke 
"cause-and-effect" has become a "slippery slope"

retreating into a monastic existence 
rushing up to the hills that we might just die on 
struggling on with the information psychosis 
witnessing the dawn of a great revolution 

let the tome of the visage be gone forever
we sure do live in constantly interesting times 
going back to the sublime after months of code 
do you really prefer free speech over free stuff?

showing them the truths whether they like it or not 
sensing the matrix more often these days than not 
considering it all as mere propaganda
rising from the ashes once again on this site 

using an old format to move ahead boldly 
dealing with some of the world's worst sense of timing 
now trying to extricate so many demons 
"the real world" not as a religion but a cult 

forgetting that meaning just gets killed by meaning 
having confidence in a time without tidings
knowing it was already over years ago
craving trite brevity in a verbose culture

enjoying the last of these quiet hermit days
getting a wonderful dose of chemical trails
seeking happiness only in the preferred knowns
still abruptly ending up in a wild zugzwang

about this poem

  • 10 syllables per line
  • original lines were once posted on twitter but are now lost
  • certified human written
newer (in versings) ➡️
2023-xx 🪶
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🔢 Dunbar's number
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Árinni kennir illur ræðari 🇮🇸
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🇧🇬 2022 in Bulgaria (departure from Sofia)
newer (posts) ➡️
2023 on the Norwegian Joy 🛳️