Meditation on the Possibility of Geometric Thought by Yonza the Barbarian

Sometimes my thoughts have edges
Some sharp, some dull, but nevertheless
The demarcation of an objects end
Where space can resume and can invite other objects.

Sometimes the edges are vivid
But sometimes they blur or coalesce or meld
Like two proximal beads of water
Pulling at one another with a tiny miraculous force
And stretching out like psuedopodia
And bursting into an ovoid for just a moment
Before emerging into existence as round, supra-massive bead

All thoughts have one dimension: time
But I think some of my thoughts have more dimensions
Because some of my thoughts are larger than others (spatially)
And they bully other thoughts
Push them from awareness
Invaginate them and assimilate them
Destroy them and table them and holster them

Some thoughts are
Of me
Some thoughts are somehow not
Of me

I generate them sometimes.
These are the thoughts that are Of Me.
But some thoughts intrude; anxieties, worries, etc.
These are not Of Me.

I try to pin my thoughts
Like a bug wriggling on the wall
But they always crawl out from under the pin
And recede and de-objectify and evanesce back
To unawareness.

But at least, sometimes
If I keep them pinned for a beat or two
And fix my gaze just long enough
I can get them on paper.
Trapped forever as verisimilitude