the wake of existence

I ventured down the halls of looking out.

familiar is the speed with which

glancing, as measured, comes and goes.

there upon the flatscreen of a mindset,

recognition gains a sense of settling,

faster than naming would accomplish.

we all do this as part of human registry.

out of the tunnel of sight,

comes that familiar way of looking out.

it's one way of knowing I am myself,

then eye height, 

relative to ground perspective,

that also self justifies in recognition as existence.

and I haven't even started inner commentary yet.

you know that voice that feels breathy close

in an inner hearing way,

but does not create warmth on the outer ear

or body heat felt by standing too close?

yes, that's self talk, 

as if initially overhearing.

a human awake, it's bothersome,

but really doesn't get noticed that often.

one just passively slips into the character suite,

turns on the personality generator and proceeds.

the overnight screen is handed out 

in quick mental notes, 

murmured up to speed.

there are earthbound directives that occur,

possible mirror time for commentary,

and an invisible sharpie proceeding,

outlining every new step forward of the way.

sometimes I wish shoes were actually like that,

just the simple initiative of placement and go.

no need for purpose or the curiosity of caring.

wakefulness is always an ambush process,

no matter the phase-I-ness of daily approach.

can't sneak up on it.

can't claim immunity 

or needs for avoidance, either.

what a serious joke,

putting the word 'con' in consciousness.

and then the double whammy, 

of 'self' into self-consciousness.

doesn't anybody else 

see the diabolical humor in that? . . .