I remember reading Descartes and feeling comforted
because I too think and therefore I too am
and maybe this frightening, cryptic thing called a body
is just the masochistic figment of a fearful mind.
I remember reading an anxiety self-help book
that said you are not your mind, and I
just couldn't believe it because I am my mind,
because smart kids are inevitably attached to their minds
by the muscular straps of their egos.
I remember reading about epiphenomenalism and feeling terrified
that maybe there is no mind at all, that we are all just
machines, contraptions made of biological pumps and springs
and if I listen carefully I can hear my heart tick-ticking,
though it is a comfort, sometimes, to blame paranoid thoughts
on too much eating and too little sleep, excessive
holiday drinking and missed birth control pills,
temporary, superficial ails,
flat tires and rusty coils.
Portrait of René Descartes
Do you believe the human mind is a purely biological construct, or is their also an intangible component to it (ie. a soul)?