Have they been nice
Are the trees that I see the expression of
The product of casualty?
Is it by accident that I am driving on this road?
Or that I am thinking as I think?
… This wish, this need,
this impulse of recording my voice:
Is this the product of someone’s wish?
Am I just an accident of destiny?
- Or maybe there is no destiny?
An accident of entropy?
Am I chaos?
Am I order?
Am I the will of order within chaos?
Is my existing the result of an accident?
Are we all accidents, coetaneous accidents,
Among infinite chaos?
Is red the longest light wave here only,
Is there an everywhere?
Why do I feel that I am?
Why do I sometimes want to not exist?
… And why, most of the times
-if there is a most of the times
-if there is a time
do I want to pre-exist
and to post-exist
Why do I have this self-awareness
that tries to transcend
my limited, organic, existence?
Why this long survival?
Why this short survival?
Why is the light white when I feel myself?
And why is it always orange when I am part of everything?
Am I just part of the sun?
Are my eyes extensions of the sun?
Are the lights of the cars in front of me
Extensions of someone’s mind?
- if there is who
is part of the sun?
Is the sun part of a biggest sun?
Is the sun an invention?
Am I just a negligible particle of an everything?
Why is the light so white when I feel myself?
And why is it so orange when I am part of the others?
What are the others if not me?
Why do I know the others more than
I know myself sometimes?
And why do not others know me
When I need to be known?
Why is there this asynchrony,
- This out of sync
Between me and the ones I want to join with.
Why do I feel so lonely when everything is white?
Why do I feel so welcomed when light is orange?
… Why am I not anyone
In the dark?