Turgon on Nostr: We live in a repulsive world. So vile it can’t be real. Sometimes I wonder—should ...

We live in a repulsive world.
So vile it can’t be real.
Sometimes I wonder—should one stop dreaming or stop poisoning oneself with oxygen?

I am angry. Brimming with it.
God must have meant to craft a wry metaphor, setting us onto life from a place so akin to excrement.

You and I created goodness and peace. But we made them too abstract.
We wove them into films, books, poetry.
Yet who has ever truly witnessed this dream of ours?
We shaped it without seeing, tried to describe it without ever tasting.
Clearly, we believed not in what was, but in what we wished to be.
There was never a real order to take as an example.

I wanted to hold onto something.
Since I could not touch my ideas, I wanted to grasp your waist instead—
Surely, there is a wealth of inspiration in its curves.
Perhaps these desires come from my exhaustion with the abstract.
Feeling must be better than dreaming.

Long ago, I stopped believing in what I saw.
I am tired of seeing what I cannot feel.
Yet in you, I saw everything the world would never be able to feel.
And on top of that, I even dared to dream of it. Shamelessly.

Humanity longed to bathe in vast seas.
We called the retreating waters the tides and turned them into art—
Yet when the full moon came, we feared the very escape of the waves.

Too real to be beautiful.