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Page 1: Axes of Feedback
Page 3: Poems
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1.
I’ll tell you what I’d like my mortal human expression to be.
A gentle presence. Purely compassion.
A solid construction made to soothe others.
I’ve lived a life of service. But not in the way I want.
Yet I know altruism is an impossible trait. I cannot escape my own narcissism, my own selfish inclinations.
I am spoiled. I may not recover.
Perhaps this is what makes me still wake-up tied down by my own weight, A sagging of shoulders, a tiredness behind my eyes.
It's like I'm carrying within me the battle scars of my ancestors.
All I know is that I want to bend the laws of my own body.
2.
The pounding of my feet on ruthless cement has warped my bones.
Already, I feel creaky, like an old house.
Will this body fail me so soon? Sometimes I fear that. Arthritis whispering their sweet nothings in my fingertips.
There is so much to conquer first; so many trails to wind my body around.
I feel I am bent inward lately.
How freeing it would be to raise my spine, to stand fully with the expression of myself?
I am two beings in one. Free and trapped all at the same time.
I make efforts to commune with the dimension in which I’ve been born, But somehow I know this body isn’t the end of me.
It is simply a shell for a soul not yet actualized.
"All I know is that I want to bend the laws of my own body."