I wrote this thing

April 19th, 2016
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I wrote a silly poem today because working out made me kind of delirious. By the way, publishing this on the ~interweb~ is really scary so if anyone out there reads this please don’t made fun of me poetry isn’t my thing.

Consciousness
It is 8:51pm and I drive home
through the lull
of an early summer night
sweaty hands turn the wheel
and my aching calves dully hit the brakes
while my mind hurts a bit more
with every word of the podcast
consciousness is here now
was with me as I did my lunges
yet I fumble around the idea
like my 14yr old self trying to
write my first AP essay
except the closest I get to consciousness
is a slight prodding of the boundaries
to my own mind
why am I existing
how am I being
this undiluted consideration is more difficult
than my squats

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