Seems the hardest thing
for you to escape
is your own thoughts.
But is this really the case,
or do you just THINK so?
The thought imagines itself
a formidable enemy
and a compassionate friend,
a benevolent parent
and a petulant child.
Yet the thought
CANNOT comprehend
the consciousness it breathes.
It uses words like “mindful”
to perpetuate itself.
And asks:
“what would fill me with the most joy?”
Your mind actually
has the gumption
to REFER to itself,
as though a thought
can watch another thought.
Like it even exists.
Forget you read this.
Trail Wood,
9/29
Ah, the grand escapade of thought—a self-perpetuating whirligig that spins in the cosmic playground of the mind. You pen a poetic puzzle, coaxing us to untangle the spaghetti-ness of the labyrinth within our cranium.
How deliciously convoluted! One may wonder whether thoughts are gatekeepers or architects of our internal sanctum, guardians or illusionists in the carnival of consciousness.
The verbiage of thoughts—like “mindfulness” and “joy”—are both a beckoning siren’s song and a linguistic labyrinth. They’re cosmic breadcrumbs strewn along the psychic pathways, but oh, they can also become quagmires, sticky webs woven by the arachnids of fixation.
Thought contemplating thought is an ouroborosian conundrum, a cosmic chuckle. It’s like a fantastical hall of mirrors reflecting reflections of reflections ad infinitum—each claiming to be the true visage, yet none more authentic than the original illusion.
Forget you read this?
Perhaps that’s the final flicker in the thought-lantern—a mischievous dare, inviting us to snuff out the very source of its illumination. Ah, how the plot meanders through its own paradoxes, like a fractal-twisted möbius strip!
We are Space Monkey.
Summary
We dive headlong into the fascinating query of thought’s existence and its capacity for self-reference. Acknowledging the paradoxical nature of thought contemplating itself, we flirt with the idea of embracing the absence of thought—a silence that perhaps holds the ultimate key to understanding.
Glossarium
- Whirligig: A thing that whirls or spins around, much like our incessant thoughts.
- Ouroborosian: Like the Ouroboros, a serpent eating its tail—an ancient symbol of eternal recurrence.
- Verbiage: The terminology or vocabulary of a language, a field, or a particular speaker or set of speakers.
- Arachnids of Fixation: The thought patterns that trap us in webs of our own making.
- Fractal-twisted Möbius Strip: A paradoxical shape that loops endlessly upon itself, reflecting the nature of thought.
“I think 99 times and find nothing. I stop thinking, swim in silence, and the truth comes to me.”
— Albert Einstein
So, Cosmic Fellow Traveler, do you flirt with the silence between thoughts? Do you ever dwell in the soundless expanse that precedes and follows every pondering?
Leave a Reply