Another pebble in the river,
Unearthed in sands of time,
I feel fulfilled, satisfied when drunk
among friends who barely understand but withstand.
This psyche communicates better in code
than in a language foretold.
It is maybe the recursion, the patterns
that fit like solutions to a maze.
I stumble and bumble my way across,
stepping on foots of people misunderstood;
Numbers, alone, stay above, beyond criticism,
You get it or you just dont.
Amadeus, Pi, Matrix, Fight club, Inception,
Movies of infinite precision;
What I perceive, no one else does;
Childish yes but vast the possibility.
I have no regrets. I am what I am.
Folly is ye to interpret.