We have no control
Over thoughts, feelings, sensations
And as these inputs
Over time form our outputs
With a dash of chaos thrown in
Our responses also, therefore
Are independent of our Will
That wishes what is, is not
A contrary flow
Adjusting responses over time
Fine tuning
Happy, unhappy
Discontented, contented
Always changing, striving
For better, or worse
Ever a footstep behind
What’s happening
Till we realise our Will too
Is just a thought, a response
An output
This life a game that plays itself
Releasing responsibility
Releasing guilt
Replacing angst
With wonder for this machine
This life, intelligence
Something from nothing
All going on
Inside and outside present awareness
A miracle for which there is no precedent
For there is no moment but this
In which all other imaginary moments live


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