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on becoming objects


i’d consider there is no hope left in me
and when I recollect each passing second
of hopelessness and living for living’s sake
the things are becoming objects
the world is dividing itself up into objects
things do seem to be what they are
the world seems to be what it is
a second, a moment before they are recaptured
in words and a thousand-word defying image!
objects have no feelings
like I do, no, don’t, for my homeland
—imaginary, memorised, selectively




ps: a cross-diagonal reflection on how a planet and all things in it transubstantiate and get manifested into physically viewable objects in an interval of a few nanoseconds: oh, this could have been a studied title for a thesis on things becoming objects  

 

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