I am someone who enjoys 5 AM words

and 6 AM thoughts…

I intuitively know

that 7 AM sex, shopping, or socializing

will be a let-down

compared to the love

I make

in bed

with words.

I am content…

and my life has taken-on a lazy quality.

I have spent years training

and not winning…

losing?

hardly.

I feel good. And if you feel 100%

a little magic sprinkled on top

is nice

but it can just as easily get mean,

like a moody monster.

What I’m trying to say is…

it can be difficult for a philosopher to become a winner.

He has spent so much time making meaning from his misery

that he doesn’t seek success like a pill—like prescribed medication for failure.

He injects philosophy into his veins

and has more constant highs

than a drug addict

but occasionally, he wishes for women and fame

and the world laughs at him

because it only rewards killers

and not the contemplative celibate

in his cave.

The world won’t tolerate a loser

and if you lose and laugh

you are worse than last place.

Your teachers and parents will tell you to try

and most people do,

so the winners can win.

Why are they the same people

year after year?

Contenders

are the worst sort—

they only know how to get to second place.

If you are a winner

you have no competition

and the danger

is that you will get tired of winning

and wonder what it’s like to lose.

Many

walk right up to the finish line and quit

because they don’t have any faith

and the philosopher sees the prize

and doesn’t strive for it

because he likes to run, more than he likes to win.

The world knows

winning is no small thing

it’s rare

and it rewards

scarcity.

A great artist is thought to have a great soul

but this is usually not true—

they can, but a great character is just as rare.

I have had glimpses of winning

It’s the adulterous woman who reads your poem

knows it’s good

and fucks you with her eyes.

I’m only an amateur

She’s a professional

She eats talent.

I do it for love.

Her blouse is undone.

She’s waiting for me to take her to the restroom,

where I won’t rest.

A one hit wonder?

Most are

a one pump chump.

Beauty fades

it can no longer reward the way it used to

I have been accused of being an old man at 24

A 35-year-old woman

talks about threesomes.

She’s trying to make me hot.

Do I prefer to be a rockstar or a philosopher?

Women (after a certain age) don’t want either one

they want a man who listens to them

who thinks about them

who makes love to them.

A rockstar fucks the world

A philosopher finds a way to love it

The average man

gets with an average woman.

She might’ve been hot for a few years.

He, was probably average his whole life

There are only a few winners

and a few true philosophers

I would like to be both.

Average is… well…average.

I would like to fuck the world

and love it.

I would like to make it to heaven too

The trick is to hold onto your soul at the same time.

Don’t give it away.

Many

will trade it for 1st place

because they don’t know how valuable it is.

There is a difference between the average soul

and the superman

The superman is

The average soul is

Which one are you?