Equanimity

When equanimity falls to the wayside And the eyes empirically survey the hillside, It’s Einstein’s time that I can’t bide, Mawkish mental masturbation adroitly I chide, Thy self, Then my discreet self in its inchoate knowledge of reality, Like the mass of humanity Dissembling about Nature, And Nature in turn disassembles matter, that we build up and think Matters, Your death is no grand spectacle even if it seems to be, wrought cosmologies wield fantastical narratives of eternity, Even when my hero Nietzsche in his tautology: Amor Fati unfolds itself like origami into eternal recurrence Don’t get any ideas about permanence. Take an uncompromising acceptance of reality, isn’t that just akin to Buddhist philosophy? As discreet markings form abstract symbols of meaning in letters that form alphabets, that form words, that form sentences, that form phrases that compose ideology to compel us and histories, that inform us of existence, don’t get too cozy with them as they have a way of presenting like the Horizon, The horizon, you know is just an illusion. I do not subscribe to Pascal’s wager, Dawkins showed me the light, I do not matter much, but no matter, as surely as I exist nothing is more precious. All religious cosmologies aside, miraculous evocative entertainments beguiling distractions, "Cogito ergo sum" Descartes comforting statement. You bring the inside out, this doubting mind can be certain of existence, by our certain doubt.