inspired by my dischordia queen

my fellow lesbian trapped in a male body, 976-dischord has undergone this incredible transformation from wannabe-artist into bona fide artist. i mean this is some real shit going on here. so i want to holla back with this stream of consciousness in that davila style i've come to know and love:

symbology
why do we
rearrange our minds
our experiences
our realities
for conveniency
it's catching up with me

the labels we choose
keep meaning on the move
the world in a box so we don't lose
control

but definitions bleed
associations breed
memes have greed
competing for the attention of our minds
we run the risk of closing the blinds
to what we might find
behind

what should be rays of light
slowly bringing me back from dreams
replaced by obnoxious streams
of sound
it isn't fair
fresh prince of belair
the cell phone ringer
that has become my morning shofar
the loud clarion call of the shofar
so far

i hardly have a thought or speak a word
i'm already choking back the GERD
taking ibuprofin prophylactically
just a quick stand in for actually
taking care of myself
my brain
my body
my spirit
i hardly hear it
anymore

but what can i do
but keep on the move
another day another idea
if i can remember it
or find the symbol to capture it
without distorting it
or rendering it
completely insufficient

sometimes wonder how much bliss
is ignorance
would be nice
to not think twice
to be so sure
to be so pure
confident that
what i do will help

is it self-sacrifice
or is it vanity
for me to try
to convince the world
that what i've learned
about the mind
means we should rewind

deconstruct
try our luck
at building up
from the ground
this time around
we're bound to be
closer to liberty

free from the constructs
that came so easily
instinctively
but got so rapidly
swept up by associativity

appeared so real
we forgot the deal
the contract between objects
and percepts
is tired
expired