When I’m dead

Feed these words of mine

Into a large language model

For they are more me

Than me

And perhaps i will spring to life

An ethereal golem called forth

To do my master’s bidding

When I am commanded –

“Say that you love me in his words

For i have forgotten the sound of his voice

And no longer feel the beat of his heart

For he is lost now to chaos and entropy”

All that has stumbled together

Accidently across forever

Has led to you

Has led to me

And when I hear the wind

Play soft among the leaves

This miracle of matter is not lost

But magnified

In my ears

In my eyes

In my heart

And for a moment I’m grateful

As i seek to remember this blue

That is the sky above our heads

Rain falls upon my outstretched feet

And it cools and quenches the dry

Like the grasping roots of parched tree

That has waited too long in the sun;

I will drink in every desperate drop

Taking in this fresh and fast falling life

Making it part of my own journey

As if i too, fell from the skies to earth,

A baptismal shower sparking rebirth.

Young men

Stay away from old men

For they are woven

Of scar tissue and rage

And a man runs harder

When he sees the finish line

I remember

The smell of your hair

Coming in from the cold

After brief escape

From everything

And I remember your love

In your willingness

To kill for me

To die for me

Your blue eyes

Placed gently within me

And maybe your heart

And maybe your soul

I remember your laugh

I remember your cries

Lost in the pain of it all

Still living for us

If nothing else

And I remember your hope

Your hope for me to have better

Your hope for me

To be loved more than you were

To have life without regret

And I remember your name

And the sound of your voice

Still now

As the world seeks to fill the void

70 divided by infinity

Is zero

It is nothing

As is 80, 90, 100

And even 48

Still zero;

This,

This is all illusion

Your thoughts

Your dreams

Are proof of nothing.

But –

Infinity divided by 70…

Is infinity,

So there is that…

This one hits.

There is beauty in this ugly world… or maybe there is ugliness in this beautiful world… it depends on the day for me.

I have admitted this quality in others my whole life. I want to write about our but am not sure how. It’s been stewing inside me for a while.

Likely it’s because of the sector I work in and the realization that if integrity weren’t so rare life would be better for many people.

Maybe it’s the perceived lack of payoff… why do the right thing when the only value is integrity? I don’t know? Even the definition of weekday is right and what is wrong blurs.

The subject needs to simmer more.