Monday, April 11

I never thought we were that different

you and i,
the observer and the observered.

The doer and the doee
The inimitable system
Of best worst
Worst best.

Now it means something becaue of all the times
I've been to the festival of the weekend
Of the disc.

We play our roles an fill our squads
Sometimes we're the overdog
Sometimes we can't finish the door.

All there is is who we represent ourselves as.
Who we see our opponents as
Who we dream we're
Dreaming ourselves as.

Are you the hero?
The villain,
The butler
(He Butles!)
The janitor?

Do you clean up the the mess?
Make it appear ordered,
Cause it to appear,
Fail to prevent it?

Precisely the way
You said you wouldn't
We always fail
To be different.

The tales of conquest
The myth of winning
The death of losing.
We are who we are.

We commit atrocities
for our dreams.
We give it up
for our teams.
What is the reflexive nature
Of what we do?
What of the referential,
The infinitely intricate?

The SELF-Referential?
The deferential?
The slot you fit into?

Who are you with this team,
With that team?
How different than with
The world?

The representations we project and see
After all of the TV training we've had?
All of the video games?
All of the fantasies?

The dreams?

The fixation of living
While painless
While dreaming
Permeating even ourselves.

Does ultimate hurt?
Could it be bad for you?
Does it matter?
I still like to win.

Oh well, at Fools
We didn't.
At Kaimana
We didn't.

But I played,
And didn't totally
Not just yet.

Maybe I'll finish the posts for meh?
I lost in the Ro-sham
(Spell it how you like it,
I've got him next time).

I think.

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