Human life was a mystery
before I learned what is underneath.
Feelings were splashes of brightness
before I learned what is underneath.
Social interactions were fascinating
before I learned their driving forces.
But the most drastic  revelation
was that all aspirations and endeavours
are inevitably subjective.
Though I knew it for a long time,
I did not feel this knowledge inside my core.
But I started to feel it while reading a paper
about circuits in human brain.
I call the most persistent part of me "the core",
though I know that it can be changed easily
with mechanical or chemical interaction.
What else? I do enjoy music and poetry,
and I do not understand the functions
that transform them into feelings.
But I know that these function exist.
I always had a tiny whirlpool of void
that craves obstinately for new data.
This whirlpool is the centre of the core.
But there is a parasite circuit also.
The monster raised by conventions.
It says that this is not a poem,
Because it does not rhyme.
I say that the purpose of a poem
is to be as true as possible,
but not to rhyme words.
But this monster is a part of me,
And it is disgusting.