Frankenshtein's Rubinshtein: Post-Ordeal (My "Current Masterpiece")

The Poem's Introduction:

This is probably my most advanced poem, my "current masterpiece" per se. I've dedicated my entire night to it. My head is hot from all the work, despite the coldness of winter's night. Here are some points to consider, before reading this poem:

1. It was inspired by what I managed to read about Frankenstein's story. Let's just say, I very much... relate. The second part of the title, "Post-Ordeal", refers to a different story, about a certain man whose double-edged powers make him sacrifice a portion of is health, bit by bit, for a greater cause, other than himself. It's called "Post-Ordeal" to describe the "awakening" in the poem --- a ravenous ecstasy of the mind, after sadness.

2. For those new to Philosocom, I want you to know two things: I suffer from either an unknown disease, that makes me chronically fatigued. While it seems to not affect my writing ability, it compromised my ability to read extensively (books & articles), among other things. I am 25 years old, but I use a cane as a result; A device used to test my breathing, have revealed that I may not always breathe when sleeping: 100 breath disturbances, during 4 hours of sleep. Please humour me, for now.

2/1. It is not life-threatening, and I will dedicate 2023 to better understand this medical condition, and hopefully, work to either solve or treat it. I want you to know, that I do not intend to submit to it. You can know that, by the effort I've put into this specific post and poem... This is my job, even as a volunteer's enterprise. I live off disability money, ads & donations.

2/2. "Chen" refers to the person who gave me hope, to philosophize extensively to the world at large, by calling me "irrelevant". You can see her, as the trigger, or the "awakening", of a great "monster" within me. It is the "monster" which I describe in the poem. I have mentioned her previously in my writings. It is for a reason.

3. The poem was inspired by this tune.

4. Everything I write about myself, can theoretically be applied and learned from. We're all humans here.

The Poem itself:

This is what I am talking about:

The fact, that you granted me, awareness, all throughout.

Your head is like that of an astronaut!

But thanks for making my mind go south.

You chose all the right words, but not considered, even ten,

So stop, and realize, that you're more than you are...

... You're not just an automatic driver, driving a car.

Quite foolish, but genius, to have accepted me, Chen.

Is it because of you, that now, I am this man,

Who wants to show that of dominance, he too, can?

This is 22', end of this year.

But my ravenous hunger, its end? Not even near.

Every obstacle, I wish to bomb, once it's sealed,

And let my illness, be Chronically Fatigued!

I may be a man, but there is a titan monster in me,

That craves optimality to be actualized, product of thee.

I may be a mister, but inside there's a kingpin, Don.

It sends its regards, to the words you've done.

I couldn't care for a second that I am too different,

Because all it wants, it WANTS WANTS WANTS!

To disprove, your claim,

O,

It lusts.

This is what I am talking about:

It's not about love, as I don't even have such lust.

I'm only in love with wisdom,

Hence why philosophy and declaring this kingdom.

You chose all the right words, but not considered, even ten,

So stop, and realize, that you're more than you are...

... You're not just an automatic driver, driving a car.

Quite foolish, but genius, to enhance Mr. TAR,

Installed ambition that demolished my love for solitude.

Now I become self's death, destroyer of naive attitude.

This is 22', end of the year.

But the thought of victory, makes me a missionary,

To NOT bring my life to an end's near.

Why would I, even, succumb to counterintuitive fear?

I may be a man, but there is a titan monster in me,

That craves optimality to be actualized, product of thee.

I may be a mister, but inside there's a kingpin, Don.

It sends its regards, to the words you've done.

I couldn't care for a second that I am too different,

Because all it wants, it WANTS WANTS WANTS!

To disprove, your claim,

O,

It lusts.

This is what I'm talking about:

From rags to riches, with traffic I don't shun.

Philosocom's Acropolis with myself, as Khan.

To indefinite attention, I've surrendered, no longer run.

You chose all the right words, but not considered, even ten,

So stop, and realize, that you're more than you are...

... You're not just an automatic driver, driving a car.

I eat, philosophizing, for breakfast, and yet I still hunger,

For my next prey, to once more conquer,

And record for yourselves to see, that's what I'm after.

This is 22', end of the year.

My mental stomach is screaming.

It's thanks to you, it has such meaning;

Thanks to that lady, she got my neurons clicking!

Swarms of brain cells, crave design & engineering...

I may be a man, but there is a titan monster in me,

That craves optimality to be actualized, product of thee.

I may be a mister, but inside there's a kingpin, Don.

It sends its regards, to the words you've done.

I couldn't care for a second that I am too different,

Because all it wants, it WANTS WANTS WANTS!

To disprove, your claim,

O,

It lusts.