I; Et Al

Image Credit: Eugene Golovesov

By Augustine Wasef

“A” self is a nexus,

 a chemical coincidence and a physiological trance

  a convergence of spiritual adoration and chemical terror

Still the eternal nomad

 without a metaphysical compass  

 nude in self examination

If we are not naive

it is not some intrinsic truth 

or some internal direction

Why then is lucidity so preachy

 is confidence a precursor to understanding

 or merely an external facade

Surely we have the internal clarity

 even the magnification 

to see ourselves in a differentiating light

 to fully grasp the self

And when I look inside nobody is home 

no internal light and no self

 is my answer some reductionism 

that I am an alien entombed in my skin?

Why then am I still the eternal nomad? 

Why is psychology unanchored, no; undaunted, by this internal projection

 is our universe so spiritually empty that I can’t fully reside in myself

Themes of identity assume there is an identity to transform

 and isn’t it so glaringly obvious there is

 that when I stare inward there is an “I”

Is there a differentiation between inside and outside?

Between the self and environment?

Or is the self in search of pasture 

In a sense we are physically clothed and spiritually vagabonds

 there is no canon

 no general theory of philosophy

No answers and no consolation only invariances…

the subtle hope that we will find a logical home

 within the singularity that is consciousness