Tankic Black Box

Tankic Black Box


Into my black box.
Yes, my life is a black box.
My mind is empty.
The worms going in hungry,
and coming back out well fed.

Can wisdom be known?
Or is wisdom just worm shit?
What happens inside?
Mind hurting with emptiness.
The pain of never knowing.

Imagining it.
I think about mentation,
regurgitation.
The words inside transforming;
coming out as something else.

How many dead cats?
Sometimes I feel them fighting,
snarling inside me,
warring in my darkened head.
Blood in my absorbent mind.

Life is a black box.
I can record what goes in.
I see what comes out.
But what happens inside me?
What goes on in life's body?

Feel stimulation.
The energy flowing in.
Internal turmoil.
Emote the inside foaming.
Feel the passion flowing out.

Regeneration.
Make the next generation.
A meeting inside.
Gametes inside nothingness,
dancing inside the black box.

Measure what went in.
What really happened inside?
Measure what comes out.
Measure the new begotten,
Feel the new life in your hand.

Inside the black box.
Emotion on the inside.
Logic, in and out?
No, that wont account for things.
Digestion of emotion.

Wondrous emptiness.
Turn inner upon outer.
Squeeze the sponge of mind.
Gut the pre-gutted unknown,
assuring your emptiness.

Embrace emptiness.
Remain empty for a time.
What is it you want?
What do you need to put in?
Maybe empty is better.

I am curious.
If nothing goes in, then what?
Does something come out?
Creation A Priori?
Making myself from nothing?

Anger when I think.
Anger brings on the terror!
Terror shows nothing!
Nothingness brings emptiness.
Mind! Help me find some meaning!

Help me fill the box.
I don't want to be alone,
with the emptiness.
Sit with me and help me think.
I don't want to be alone.

Can you fill it up?
Fill my box with your realness?
Make war on the worms.
Save me with your existence.
Give some meaning to my life.

I ask for too much.
I'm sorry. I know I do.
I always do that,.
ask for what can't be given.
The black box cannot be filled.

Even if it could,
how would we ever know it?
We don't know whats real.
The nature of the black box,
input, emptiness, output.

I am a black box.
Becoming, empty, ending.
You are a black box.
We are always by ourselves.
We are never really here.