Dark Matter and Energy

Into the water, Like confetti, he falls. Blown away, scattered on the wind, the yesterday he once knew, the words he once believed in seeded to the breeze. The pieces no longer fit; the you that was no longer exists.

What will become of the puzzle now that the fragments no longer align, and not for the first time you are walking on the wrong side of the street. Some say you will be reconstituted to create a new you. A resurrection of a kind, to find your messiah within yourself: freeze the picture, hold the desires.

Others believe in starving off hunger and the will to succeed at all costs whilst building firewalls around their temples. Those that do not succeed are the forgotten ones, the new pariahs. Believing in false demigods and overlords, there is no fire burning, no glue, or new moulds to pour you in. For, the reconstruction of the self requires the destruction of themselves — emancipation from the decimation of their words.

Head under water: if you dare breathe of your own accord. New religions — some say that change is imperative and one must believe in it. The irony is that you change, but everything else remains the same.

Damaged, we all can rearrange the universe at will. One can never stay the same. Don’t you believe in the blame game? They tell you you have to dream, But they will never let you sleep or breathe.

Breathless, hoping someone will act on your behest. Tool to the fool they will use you. You fall; it is your fault. You look up at the castle but cannot breach the walls. They will say you did not aspire high enough. The will to conquer, who creates the rules for the space we navigate? It is thus a space we did not create.

They tear down your schools, but still, you should have the inane ability to learn. It is genetic. They secretly harbour dreams of eugenics. F**king electric sheep, with the pads in their hands.

A flaw to be eradicated like all others before, perfections contrasted against the perceived imperfection of the cosmos.

Don’t bother knocking at the door because your fate is predefined. It is a mind game, making the sane believe they are insane. Plutocrats, bureaucrats, oligarchs, psychologists, and psychiatrists in tacit collusion, holding the fragments that keep everything together, that illusive reality, the confetti blowing in the wind.

They know you, the molecules that constitute you. Genetically engineered, the codes define the colour of your skin and your IQ. Nature has deemed you to be inferior. It is a scientific fact. Gluons, neutrons, protons, neurones, and dark matter.

Dark matter is an evil force. Something unknown should be feared. Dark energy will eradicate their universe.

Latent meanings are written in words originating from the heart. Playing their games, how far can you progress under duress? There is no point; zeros and ones are the codes that constitute you. Plug in, plug out, clock in, clock out, and remember to switch off the light.

Walking bare feet, the only story you have been fed, the only book you ever attempted to read, Smart, the monkey using a tool, No emotional intelligence: the intellect to think for yourself.

Keep singing those happy talkie tunes. Look in the mirror. Can you see, can you delineate a self. You are the trail, a redshift moving through space and time, so you recede further into the past. There is never a you but always a them. The only time it stops, so does the clock. And so, get down on your knees and pray for salvation, Believe in false messiahs and demigods.