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On Do-Overs and Being Over

(Write about the fallacy of being over, which is merely a do-over in disguise)

I started writing this poem five days ago, it was supposed to follow a different path — and it would be very bad, taking in account what I had written:

I remember the nights and days day and night
As my tears become a mix of alcohol and smoke

Today I was looking through my drafts folder — searching something
I wrote long ago and don’t even remember what was about —, and thought this title and the concept on that italicised couplet above had something to write out

I started off:

Thoughts are supposed to be ephemeral and amorphous

I was uninspired, even-steven, a pawn on the flat land
So, I wrote a reminder to myself in case my pursuit were ever resumed:

• Write about the fallacy of being over, which is merely a do-over in disguise •

3:45 in the wee — eyes wide open—, I find myself thinking about inertness, so let’s see where it leads us…

The potential of a sphere — The stasis moment when nothing ever occurs
After a dismay for a previous happening

That ends up in a do-over, after you forget what is the dismay for
And the fallacy of being over happens

3:47 in the wee — rolling eyeballs wide open —, either my windows are blurred, or the clouds blurred the moon

That’s how we close curtains to ignore the tarnishes on the windows

Which leads me to thinking
What happens behind those curtains
That might not be happening at all
Since, holographically, things only happen
Once I observe them

3:50 in the wee — eyes half open, I just need to conclude before I forget

Thoughts are supposed to be ephemeral and amorphous
And their denouement is an open path
Always an open path

And when Sandman finally beat me, I recalled whispering the following words:

_Telescope thoughts on the porch begets chromatic efflorescence _
Cuckoo Delirium prophecies
The closest one can get to genius