the feebly-minded

i don't like music
it fills space of my limited mind
which could be used otherwise
but never used
forms earworms
so it plays even when it's not really playing

i don't like riches
it blinds me from seeing the less rich
imprisons me in the bubble
the comfort-bubble
but poor haunts and give aches
the ache or the itch
i don't know what i prefer

or maybe it doesn't matter
what of rich and poor is it about?
of the mind of the physical of the tangible and intangible
perhaps i don't like both because it blinds me from seeing the other
and the inbetween
and of the infinite other dimensions

i doubt if i'm up for what i say i'm up for
i don't know if i mean what i say
i don't know if i feel what i think
i just don't know what i'm feeling really
possessed by the unknown
humans don't really have control of what we think or feel or do we?
or
is it a practice that the strong-minded partakes in am i the feebly-minded

if i'll ever remember the so-be-named resolution, let it be:
be in more healthy control of yourself

or is it modesty
or arrogance, or both?
to confess ignorance about the seemingly known or the utterly unknown
is it right to live in the mist
blur images nerves sparkly enable in your head

more precious time of my life, space of my mind and potency of my stamina need be saved for more worthy savory
valuable causes