Formless Mister

It is Tuesday and I am chasing sticks-and-bones down the winter street. Not chasing, following. I don’t think he can run. He has no meat on his bones, only femurs and ribs and a spine etcetera, and the sticks in a silhouette, an outline of the man he is, something you can see through. No…

Must the misfit be a masochist?

You told me to buy presentable clothes and I did, a whole new outfit from Target. Neat slacks and spiffy shirt, even found shoes to match. And now here I am dressed like a fish trying to understand what it means to breathe air. We’re toddlers on a see-saw, you and I, for the first…

The Moon, Lost In The Fractal

It was a dead monkey I heard say it, is how I know this to be true; deep in the verdant jungle where nature still appears real, the hunted-dead monkey said to me, “All life has a point.” I agree this is ridiculous, that a dead monkey spoke to me, but anyway that isn’t the…


So for instance, you’re looking at yourself in the mirror and asking, “How do I know that I am? Are there logical assumptions that I can make to prove my own existence or should I conduct experiments? Do I need to be empirically verified? Is it even possible to know for sure that I exist? What about how? How do I exist? Is it possible to discover a method by which I exist?”


Ontology is looking at yourself in the mirror and asking, “Do I exist? How do I exist? How do I know that I exist? Am I an indivisible whole or am I set of components? Is my whole a component of some larger whole?”