There are two of us here, we,
The lump of flesh and the
whatjacallit
soul, consciousness, sentience
and we battle it out daily.
Something tells me the lump always wins
but lets the thinker rationalize
whatever it decides.
Which is our better nature?
The thinker thinks it’s him
but then he’s the one
doing the thinking.
Maybe the fallacy is
that we are two of us here.
You see anyone else
in the room?
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Published by WarrenBluhm
Wordsmith and podcaster, Warren is a reporter, editor and storyteller who lives near the shores of Green Bay with his wife, two golden retrievers, Dejah and Summer, and Blackberry, an insistent cat. Author of It's Going to Be All Right, Echoes of Freedom Past, Full, Refuse to be Afraid, Gladness is Infectious, 24 flashes, How to Play a Blue Guitar, Myke Phoenix: The Complete Novelettes, A Bridge at Crossroads, The Imaginary Bomb, A Scream of Consciousness, and The Imaginary Revolution.
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