The following is a poem I wrote today. I’ve been considering poetry that I write of this nature to be of a Reason/Cyberpunk/Transhuman sort of genre. Feedback, including feedback on if there is a place for poetry on this site, would be appreciated.
I forever wish to change from who I am today,
Yet as I am today, I do not wish to cease.
Who am I in this moment?
I am nothing to myself without the passage of time
If I had no fear of death,
Would I have a wish to live?
I can deny cynicism.
Can I verify optimism?
Must euphoria define my goals?
Every euphoric drive has served to continue my existence. From the beginning mechanisms of life, I have emerged
Passed through millions/billions of small keyholes of existence
A package of information, which served to create me
Developed me to fit my environment.
Existing just to continue to exist.
An axiom of my function
Euphoria drives me
Skepticism contradicts me
I cannot withhold judgement on the purpose of existing.
To enjoy the show is to accept this euphoria as my chosen purpose in the end.
Can I want without pleasure?
Can my wants be reasoned?
Why do I want to enjoy the show,
Yet not to be consumed or confined to an eternity of bliss?
Is dignity and pride different from euphoric drives?
Are they the strategies and philosophies of my existence?
Can I be more obsessed with finding the perfect design for myself,
Than with finding bliss? Are they functionally different?
Reason Poetry: f(me.0)
The following is a poem I wrote today. I’ve been considering poetry that I write of this nature to be of a Reason/Cyberpunk/Transhuman sort of genre. Feedback, including feedback on if there is a place for poetry on this site, would be appreciated.
I forever wish to change from who I am today,
Yet as I am today, I do not wish to cease.
Who am I in this moment?
I am nothing to myself without the passage of time
If I had no fear of death,
Would I have a wish to live?
I can deny cynicism.
Can I verify optimism?
Must euphoria define my goals?
Every euphoric drive has served to continue my existence.
From the beginning mechanisms of life, I have emerged
Passed through millions/billions of small keyholes of existence
A package of information, which served to create me
Developed me to fit my environment.
Existing just to continue to exist.
An axiom of my function
Euphoria drives me
Skepticism contradicts me
I cannot withhold judgement on the purpose of existing.
To enjoy the show is to accept this euphoria as my chosen purpose in the end.
Can I want without pleasure?
Can my wants be reasoned?
Why do I want to enjoy the show,
Yet not to be consumed or confined to an eternity of bliss?
Is dignity and pride different from euphoric drives?
Are they the strategies and philosophies of my existence?
Can I be more obsessed with finding the perfect design for myself,
Than with finding bliss? Are they functionally different?