what is real is in question
my time alone is comforting and easy
and sometimes lonely
but alone I can hear my thoughts above all others
even when I don’t particularly want to
and most importantly when I do
today my voice says
“what is real and where are you in this?”
today there is no answer
only weariness.
what is good
and what goodness means
are different beasts
i think I must give up the idea of things meaning anything at all