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A Weary Empath


In the final 40 minutes of The Theory of Everything, the movie about Steven Hawking’s life and achievements, I paused it 7 times in moments of inspiration to write 7 poems. I’ve decided not to edit any of these (spelling errors amok). As a relevant aside, in my high school philosophy class, I asserted that the concept of choice was nothing more than an illusion; 15 years later (a couple years ago) when I studied Hawking’s principle on black hole radiation and the mutability of the universe, it changed my mind. This is poem 6:

Every proposition has infinite positions at least theoretically beast mind spirituality we’re wired spit from fire circumstances dire drip drip close rain perspire nervous agitation open your eyes: awaken you control the moment when you learn from victory and loss more than a roll of dice or random coin in toss

Decisions are exceptions and choices are real shake hands with inner reason and make yourself a deal.

It’s not for me to tell you what that is or should be cuz you gotta understand that the truth will set you free to decide how to walk the next path, hear it from me: a weary empath.

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