To be a philosopher
means
to sit on a carousel
and watch the way underneath,
in the dust, the other sit
in a round motion,
without getting anywhere,
to gaze at the blue sky above
that they can't see through the roof
and don't even wish to see,
to be disgusted by the lack of meaning
of their circular agitation,
and yet to envy the fun
of action, of movement,
to wish for a moment or several
to be yourself carried away by illusions,
by hope, in the swirl
that gets you so dizzy you can't see its bottom,
you can't see its limits and don't have time for it.
That is the theory of the forever outsider.

4th January 2002.