The Boy Who Turned

Everyday I feel the world through my body,
So I have grown the fallacy that I am plural.
The man inside, the others see as the boy outdoor.

I want to know how it feels to be one. One with my own self, one with world out there.
How do I stitch the two when they have grown so far apart. I want to know.

The life I lead is so selfish,
I make turns based
only on my own advances.
But what do I see? I see a boy who is uncertain. I see the boy who has been lead to dream of equality, he wants to reach it but is fearful when he knows what he is, so what to do?

He realises that he can be equal, equally inferior.

I do not satisfy myself with such reason so I take a hard left bank.
I wonder if I love myself but why would I do so?
The boy loves his toys, his family, his friends, the clothes...all of the new trends.
His needs are superior to all others.

But is he deserving of his own love?

And he finds out; No!

And slowly the man has conceived, that he loves the life in himself.
The life that is his own, and so the man knows that the very life he lives; others too know.
The outer world is then not in friction with the internal self anymore.
It has been one when the man finds himself become the symptom of life, what he had been for all his eternal now.
And then he has the thought that in being selfish he is thinking above himself,
Thinking for other.

The well versed paradox, thought with reason.

For the boy who is now in one with the man.
He sings and rocks,
Being selfish is being selfless.