Existential Crisis

Sartre

Reflection of self in the shape of another,
Where did you come from?
A mother or brother?
Despite the work of each man woman child,
Existence yields nothing;
Now isn’t life wild?
We hunt endless hours of the full day of life,
What a waste! What a waste!
What a life rife with strife!
The nature of nothing, too sickly to bear,
Inventing false prophets,
Attempting well-fair.
I’ve neglected the notion of meaning’s necessity,
Won’t hold back from pleasure,
Won’t submit to whims chastity.

The mask I wear has a name.
And a place on my wall.
Next to its sisters.
They await their calling.
For most days call for one 
more useful than the rest.
What role must I fill?
What place must I take?
To take the cake, the societal pill.
You may think I hide in these disguises,
But can you disguise that which is not there?
I do not exist.
(Not in the traditional sense, at least.)

I have two eyes that sit in my head with which I view my world.
A nose to smell the treats and stinks
A mouth to eat and politely speak.
And ears to hear the sweet song whistling by. 

But that is not me. 
That is no identity. 
Today I’m called to sit in class, 
ask questions only when I’m meant to ask.
I wear the student face quite often.
And I admit it’s a personal favorite.
Phone rings and mother calls,
And daughter mask comes off the wall.
It’s slightly crooked, not quite the right fit, 
But it doesn’t stop me from trying it on.
Each role I fill, each mask I don,
Fulfill the character of my desire,
But they hide nothing.
For I am,
Nothing. 
Nothing but a featureless fire.

Barth

Dostoyevsky

Inner pulls of animal passion
In direct opposition to reason
Poisoned by the attempt to subdue
The nature of woman’s inner demon

Reason alone cannot provide explanation,
To a dying world and heinous nation.
Best to live beyond the clouds
Where objective comforts abound

But be forewarned when godly high, 
What is missing from the eye,
Connected being of brother man
Understanding life’s true span
Where all real truth may be found

Will to will. 

The self is an unclimbable mountain; 
An endless series of awkwardly toppling over the faults 
of the old 
only to be faced with 
the seemingly insurmountable wall of the new.

How do we further our own agenda?
How can we find ourselves bathing in deeper
and deeper
pools of power?

That is what is valuable to us. 
That which can fuel our continued existence
and increase our penetrating influence.
All deals dealt under the table
– with the guise of something beautiful – 
do no more than raise those already on political pedestals
A congressional orgy. 
A handshake paired with a simultaneous orgasm. 

Inherent meaning is society’s longest joke.
Everything is nothing.
And nothing is everything. 

Heidegger

Beauvoir

Come one, come all, 
To the pure freedom show, 
Hate one, hate all, 
That’s as far as we know.
Don’t act in bad faith, 
Respect others authority, 
Especially if others,
Are in the minority.

Ambiguous ethics of the human condition.
No credit given for dishonest omission.

Equalize one, equalize all,
Power must be evenly shared, 
Aid one, aid all,
Focus on how others have faired
Built in conflict, 
Is humans’ fixation,
Don’t shut the door
On others vocation

Pure freedom is rife with untapped opportunity.
A chance for world linked in wholesome unity. 

By moment pass of utmost splendor,
I see my world in shifted view.
The queries former hold no longer,
Of debilitation in what to do.

Incapacitation
To full affirmation,
In the blink of an eye.
Once float through life
Now own vocation,
Until the day I die.

This day is done,
True purpose learned, 
A self I become.

Kierkegaard