human condition

Thought i would put something here that rivals philosophy in unusefulness...but pleasing.

"Now it is fog, I walk
Contained within my coat:
No castle more cut off
By reason of its own moat:
Only the sentry’s cough,
The mercenaries’ talk.

The street lamps, visible,
Drop no light on the ground.
But press beams painfully
In a yard of fog around.
I am condemned to be
An individual.

In the established border
There balances a mere
Pinpoint of consciousness.
I stay, or start from, here:
no fog makes more or less
The neighbouring disorder.

Particular, I must
Find out the limitation
Of mind and universe,
To pick thought and sensation
And turn to my own use
Disordered hate or lust.

I seek, to break, my span.
I am my own touchstone.
This is a test more hard
Than any ever known.
And thus I keep my guard
On that which makes me man.

Much is unknowable.
No problem shall be faced
Until the problem is;
I, born to waste,
Walk through hypothesis,
An individual."
-Thom Gunn