9th Feb

Collective made up purposes.
Chemical slavery dressed up
as survival of the fittest.
Continued existence on excuses.

The thinking mind dredges it up again and again.
But perhaps, recursive puzzles
are only resolved recursively.
Or maybe, this too is a pretense to remain sane.

I am conscious, therefore I question.
What is the point of this consciousness?
But maybe, to enquire of its own meaning
is the conscious mind's sole redemption.

There you go, birthday catharsis.