I Believe That...

I believe my beliefs are hypotheses,
That meaning and context are one,
And that to look at a thing, or someone, as a context produces insight.
I hold it like that.

The existence of a truth or fact is owed to subjectivity,
But a truth or a fact is such to its' context, and such to us if so,
And it means what it means inside whatever produces it.
A perspective is a little context native to subjectivity.
It's meaning flows from subjectivity,
And how it feels to inhabit it points at whether or not it's useful or valid.
It might be false.

A perspective can produce truths, and true meanings and facts.
Another only multiplies errors;
I believe you can distinguish the differences. Why not?
Some of the perspectives i have are false, many incomplete,
and some of yours the same,
Recognizing them is really quite fetching!

If i think there are some people out to get me say,
But there really are no people out to get me,
Then i'm mistaken. Phew!
So what does a perspective do?

Postulate! Don't believe i think.
Don't misinterpret meaning!
Every broken view supposes something instead of perceiving it.
It seems a shame. Cohere! I say.
Each fracture breeds it's bitterness, you see.
Knowing discord, you know there's gotta be a crack around there somewhere.

I experience your faults in myself.
Mine crackle in you likewise.
Not vaguely, mind you. I mean that one that bugged you last time.
If you don't think so, i think you'll find a supposition. Though that is generally refused.
But not just your flaws, i have your pains also.
And i know when you're lying. I see my doubts in your eyes.
I think it's because we're made of the same thing.
Because people are different in some ways,
And the same in many others,
I have no general reason to pick one view over the other.
What does it do if i did?

It might be i might fail to understand you,
Or you may fail me,
Nevertheless, it's likely someone understands you better than you do yourself.
That's been the case for me. Why not do it like that?

It's just quite straightforwardly true that subjectivity underlays everything.
That's an objective observation. You can check.
If the next time you notice something you notice what you're using to notice it, you'll see what i mean.
It's a big place.
Might be, that's what allows facts, meanings, and truths to be objective.
It'd be a really lovely effect, don't you think?
The lights on, the stage set, and then the play?
All of us experiences. Noted sparrows.

But seeing straight is sometimes tricky.
I absentmindedly smudge my lenses.
Luckily, fellow-feeling is kin to ease, and both are kin to insight.
But a failed Snellen is the terrible price of incoherence, usually disappointing.
Then how best to view a happening... That's the main thing!
So ask yourself, what are you after?
Then, exercise some caution, if you'll take my further advice.
A bike won't get me from Boston to Brisbane,
Not even if i peddle really fast.
Where then am i going?

Being suspicious of yourself is not too much to ask.
It's the right amount, i think, to heal the gashes you inflict and suffer.
Steady on! I believe you can make it.
You'll be caught red-handed! It'll be great!
You'll see what i mean in a little while.
It's great fun to spy the rascal!
His eyes get big as saucers!
The horde of junk he was snatching he'll drop,
and it'll clang upon stone,
And startle in turn the cargo-trains of your loaded thoughts,
Then the infectious melody of his laughter will echo through the halls.

Feel like a child playing!
Turn the table of your mind around. Play tricks on it for once!
Miserable thoughts will desiccate, and blow away like dust.

It occurs to me lately that i am no more a mind than i am a body.
Only seem to be so when obeying reaction sponsored thoughts.
I could just as well obey impulse,
Some bodily, others intuitive. The most colorful sprinkles of each of the three?
An untethered middle'll do i think.
Some certain lack of fixity,
Rested in peace.

Says here that the recipe calls for "invention and flair,"
That, "no measure of this or that is quite the right mix.
So cook with what's found in your cupboards,
And serve it to the hall..."
But what effect does your meal then have on your guests?
Does it nourish? Or please?
Or send a curious number running for the toilet?

Or again, I'm thinking of a man who prides himself on his story telling powers,
And ignoring the glaze in the eyes of his audiences,
He ends in speaking in empty halls.
You can end that way;
But is it what you wanted,
Or did you wish to dazzle?
So how do you come to conclusion anyway?
Do you wait for your suitcase of money and slowly slip into certainty?
Do you know how you take a bribe?

Some bribes i take being susceptible to flattery,
Or i bribe myself in a lust for credit when i overstate my case,
And artfully craft my manner to gleam in your favorable light.
So you must see me as I see fit!
Let us not talk openly, nor wake in finer resolution.
We pretend to be together, or we're enemy's;
I can show you my fangs if you'd like, and brandish the dagger concealed in my palm.
For I can't sense your earnestness.
Your intentions are what mine would be.
I mean what you say,
And you don't enter into it.

Nor do I mean what you think,
Unless you think it sounds good,
Otherwise, you'll need to get your ears checked.
Since I'm often more clever than I give myself credit for,
My humility shivers me,
And crusts me over like wind hardened snow.

But i believe we can melt if we want to,
You and i,
And join again in streams
Dancing down mountain sides and whispering in the sun.

Let's murmur the sun back at herself!
We can flash our joy, and ripple our kiss upon the air!
And let our pace quicken and slow,
And again shout the atmosphere, "Here we come Child!"
"We come to be breathed in you."