The Perfused Fractal

I’m listening to your tone.
Fading to one’s own existence
my miserable brain tries
to make the incomprehensible
comprehensible.
You are a riddle,
my very personal Theory of Everything,
the mystery
which binds me more
than the thought of the best hypothesis
to explain you,
because you are unapproachable.

Every analogy to describe you
fails to express your true complexity.
Perhaps you are
only
– and I dare to say “only” –
an analogy of recursive analogies,
a loop opening into itself,
that provides consciousness
here and there.

I hear you
in each of my thoughts,
see you
in everything
that is in front of me,
recognize you
in all your variations,
because you are diversity.
You are God.
You are chaos,
you are life.
And I would give everything
to understand you.

But this would probably
only
end in fatal inception;
I see it coming;
Because no human of this or another time
can ever fathom
the unfathomable.
Perhaps it’s indeed a fact
that I will never comprehend you.

But
do facts still exist
if they have fractions
bearing inside themselves?
…if they themselves are not fundemental building blocks
as well as the metaphorically decaying, zero-dimensional point particles.

Who are you? Who am I?
I am the universe, and you are me!
I am the fact, you the analogy,
but in the upshot
we are one
in perfection.

Analogy is fact,
and fact is analogy;
Isn’t this simply
complicated?

Equality
of unequal sides
proves to be paradoxical
at first sight.
But this holistic thought shows
that reductionism
isn’t far away too.

Two-dimensional images
of three-dimensional objects
show up quickly
in the dazzing nature
of light.

Thus nothingness is indeed
the foundation of everything
and the world
only a single projection
of twisted loops,
mirrored, knotted,
twisted in the ocean
of spatio-temporal paradoxes.

I’m an analogy,
of an analogy,
self-reference characterizes me.
I’m full,
so I’m empty at the same time,
the sheet that fills itself,
the black hole of my self,
a closed causality
that’s never fully closed;
The perfused fractal!

You will never know who I am,
yet you know it already
since the beginning of your time.
Because I am you,
and you are me.

Misconception of Chaos

You may say
I’m random,
but, my dear,
that’s not the case!

I follow rules
like in your deterministic views.
But you have to know
I’m very sensitive to change.

I’m a complex system
of my own,
not as easy
as in your simplified view.

Can you see the structures
deep within?
Can you recognize the patterns
deep inside my heart?

I am chaos;
I am not randomness;
I am order
in a very twisted sense!

Platonic Thoughts in Non-Euclidean Space

How can my thoughts
be
so utterly simple,
yet so complex
at its own?

My thoughts form
platonic solids
in a non-euclidean space,
a space of curvature
and wonders.

The sphere,
my perfect little ball of paradoxes;
You are so simple,
yet so complex
like platonic solids themselves…

I’m living in hidden hemispheres;
how can I escape my personal horizons
if my thoughts are
perfect platonic solids
dancing on spheres?

Oxymora

I’m a wrong tautology,
a broken analogy
of a true contradiction
that lost all direction.

Directionless I walk,
vectors become closed loops;
Wordless I talk,
collecting vectors into uncountable groups.

I’m a true contradiction,
don’t falsify me
or you’ll lose all your affection
towards everything I used to be.

I’m the burning ice
of a predictable dice,
the frozen fire
of your very last desire.

All I can hear
is the void of tranquillity,
the mirrored reality
in which I am, now and here!