Why are we at such disharmony with our world?
Why are the things we are told we should strive for
So against our human nature?
We are jealous, afraid, twisted and self-centered
But we in spiritual circles praise those who have worked to be
Selfless, generous, fearless…
What is the nature of our existence in human bodies?
Why are we bound to a flesh and blood vehicle
When in our dreams we fly and create entire worlds?
As formless beings we are free and creative
In our flesh we are anxious and self-doubting.
Surely if the soul exists the human body cannot be its home.
I itch beneath my skin,
I was born with a limitless imagination
That fits my limited body poorly.
So then who are we?
What is this place we consider “real life?”
There are many human-created establishments
Where one can go to improve oneself
Or to amuse oneself with a game whose objective
Is to get the most or the least of something,
To get from one point to another point
In space, time or status.
These ridiculous physical bodies serve a purpose we are somehow
One may ask “why are we here?”
But maybe a better place to start would be
“Why and how do we not know why we are here?”
Did we forget? Did we ever know?
Was the answer forcibly taken from us
Or did we choose to give it away?
I think we are a video game.
I think we are a school.
I think we are an intergalactic prison.
I think we’re a simulation of reality
Or a reflection of another dimension,
Or a testing lab.
I think we’re where you go after you die.
But I don’t know.
And I’ve learned what you don’t know can hurt you.