Names are a shortening of things — compactness for brevity’s sake.
We could spend our lives trying to pin down things that constantly change.
And contradict intellect it may,
but thoughts and words are not the things we speak about.
It’s surely not ego that beats your heart
or scratches itches, so what bit?
I become through sensation and symbols get in the way.
Society belies that numbers could be no other way.
Touch creates my feet.
Eyes create the light.
Tongue creates the taste,
and the ears make the music.
It’s surely not ego that beats your heart
orscratches itches, so what bit is the you
you worry so about? Do you claim your thoughts,
or do they claim you? Do you own your thoughts,
or do they own you? Do you think your thoughts,
or do they think you?