The same post on my deviantart page: http://drbipolar.deviantart.com/art/Journey-to-logic-537885215?ga_submit_new=10%253A1441698159&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1
My mother didn’t have me baptized and she always told me I should make up my own mind but she believed in reincarnation so I believed in it too. This is about my psychological journey from a “magical thinking” type of person to a pragmatic one who bases his actions and opinions on hard evidence and logical deductions.
By the way, this is my first attempt at writing poetry and my first language is not English (I’m pretty happy with the result though).
In the beginning it’s only chemical
Not even yet an animal
Fueled by every available nutrient
Life begins and becomes relevant
Abstract shapes we perceive
Brimming with anticipation
And faithfully we believe
No matter the explanation
Unaware how faith is naive
Listening, all ears, in admiration
As each sense sharpens
The universe starts to unveil
Our understanding deepens
The who takes more detail
A personality starts to brew
Perception becomes crucial
To our mind everything is new
Anything can seem beautiful
The world depends on the view
And the viewer is unstable
Witnesses of life’s show
Over time becoming able
Learning we do not know
What really means impossible
Seeing the wavelength called blue
First off, seems to be magical
Unaware sometimes perceiving hue
Can as well seem horrible
As reasons of reality become clearer
Knowing the why starts to matter
Magic just doesn’t do the trick anymore
Really understanding has something more
Knowledge gradually provoking connections
From simple ape going through the motions
I started refusing simplistic explanations
Maybe it’s just normal evolution
But not asking beyond the question
Now feels like a waste, an aberration
A generic Sapien capable of discerning
Almost totally unaware of life’s ruth,
of the world, of the reality of things
I decided to let go of my youth
To become a logical being
Compelled to find the truth
To make sense of everything
Reality is unfiltered, when we see honestly
We realise most people, to keep wanting to be,
have to believe their own lies almost unknowingly
I believe I reached a state qualified as disillusioned
I couldn’t say exactly when or how it happened
There is an hypothesis about the ones who see as is
Depressive realism, developed by Alloy and Abramson
Those who answer truthfully to life’s quiz
Will be faced with depressing assessments about their situation
They say it’s more difficult for us to be happy
For people who’s perception, like me
Is a less distorted version of reality
Harder to thrive when you know you’ll die eventually
And I must admit I have no other choice but to agree
Truly, they are right as rain
Which is why I had to trick my brain
I thought it was a good thing, to be awakened
But a brain conscious of too much becomes burdened
I choose a motivator to facilitate inner peace
It quickly became my will’s main motor piece
Since I became logical, some time has passed
I had to change my reasons not to end it fast
I choose to believe I’ll realise what I envisioned
So the toll on my mind is lessened
I choose to believe my life won’t be pointless
I have to believe I won’t fade to emptiness
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