the list begins with an explanation of the nonlinear nature
of time, how humans made it chronological despite everything
happening at once. then it’s just me talking about the frequent
feeling I get of being in a dream, how I’m all space and no earth–
like if I ram my toe into some furniture I won’t feel anything.
and I wonder what this means, all of it, what kind of meaning
I could find or create or make up if I try hard enough. how maybe
that still won’t be enough, but it’s better to try than to believe having
earthly experiences is the one, true meaning. I mean, who says there
is only one meaning? not me. I say there is zero. or if not zero, twelve.
even now as I sit on my couch, the brown one with throw pillows
in differing shades of blue, really I am in my childhood bedroom holding
my one-eyed stuffed cow and I’m also at my future wedding and the grocery
store. I’m not lost in my dream state desperately trying to know every
answer to everything. I’m just here in the timelessness of it all, accepting
that I’ll never know the full list since it can’t be listed. or I’m fully
wrong and it already has been written, and I just don’t know it yet.
Amanda Conover is a queer writer based in Raleigh, NC who frequently writes about ideas related to existentialism, spirituality, and the never-ending search for meaning in life. She is the poetry editor for Carolina Muse Literary and Arts Magazine and is an MFA student in Arcadia University’s low residency program. Her poetry has appeared in places such as the lickety~split, Miracle Monacle, Scapegoat Review, and the Chaffin Journal. Find her oversharing on Instagram @amandamconover.
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