The De-Bogglement Program AND the Story of My Life & Choices that Provoked this Atypical Poem

The De-Bogglement Program

I fell into a hole one day and just had to be productive,

and so I started digging, but then I just kept on digging — deeper and deeper,

guess I was waiting for someone to notice, hoping for a rescue or least some company,

because when I am rational, I know that I am my own worst enemy,

but no one did, although we exchanged politely meaningless "Hello, how are you"s as they passed by.

So I decided to burn some bridges,

I burned them backwards, and forwards, and from the side,

but that got me nothing aside from a few wrinkled foreheads.

No one ever asked how the fires got started,

not even when I stood there waving a lighter,

like I was at some kind of concert,

so I tried dancing in the ashes of the bridges that I burned.

Still no one noticed — so I tried a more direct approach and began ranting,

about finding a purpose, and some meaning, in this life,

and that went okay, until they realized that I didn't have a theory,

and was, in fact, asking them questions,

which is, apparently, a cause for concern,

because it was poured on so thick,

that it nearly filled up my neatly dug little hole,

and suddenly turned it into a sinkhole,

now I was starting to get desperate, because my little hole was now a bottomless pit

and there I was stuck without any bridges left.

I suppose that I could have followed the other people and tried to find the path to normality,

but I was determined to be heard, and to find a path that I could call my very own,

so I grabbed my shovel, and my pride, and began the arduous task of carving out my own path.

I worked furiously at first, doggedly pursuing each promising trail,

until recognizing the wasted time and efforts, and the ultimate futility of a directionless path.

Then I took a break, to access the situation,

and decided that I needed to determine an endpoint, or at least pick a consistent direction,

in order to efficiently forge a productive path.

With this new plan in mind, I began exploratory searches,

copiously making notes of areas worthy of further exploration,

but wasting no time or efforts pursuing them now,

because how could I make the best choice, or even a rational choice, if I didn't consider all the options available to me?

And it is so amazing to me that people speak about endless opportunities like its a good thing,

because frankly I just find it mind boggling,

and when my is boggled, I have to sort it out, before I try moving.

I have learned the hard way that my sense of direction and other sensory inputs become distorted,

if I try to move while still boggled,

and then I tend to crash into things, as I try to navigate and keep it under control,

when it feels like I am traveling at the speed of light.

Although, one time, I navigated, quite successfully, because I was able to disassociate my poor boggled brain

and I then assigned it a lower priority.

Unfortunately, the de-bogglement process was so significantly slowed that I had traveled quite a distance on autopilot,

before it became clear that there were some serious compatibility issues,

between the path and the freshly de-boggled brain.

Even now, it is not certain that the solution will ever be found.

So, yes, of course, I can try to move while still boggled,

but choosing to move now would not be the best choice, nor the most economical,

which you could also plainly see if you conducted a simple costs and benefits analysis,

as I do before choosing any course of action,

(be sure to include "utility" as a value).

In any event, these digressions, or more to the point, this explanation must soon come to an end,

because I really must devote all my processing power to the de-boggling task,

because my engine's been idling for so long now, I am beginning to worry about running out of fuel,

(can't remember the last time I gave the tank a second, or even a first, thought).

And, yes, I do appreciate your belated concern, and (more honestly) your support,

because this is the most difficult de-bogglement that I have ever faced,

and I have been forced to divert all my power & resources to the task,

to sort out the entanglements that have been hindering the process.

After a careful and thorough analysis, I have discovered that my original programming contained some faulty arguments that were the cause of the most serious error messages,

I was eventually able to identify the specific arguments and each of the revisions that must be made,

for the de-boggling task to run successfully.

And, yes, I am grateful that you have keeping watch over my more basic needs,

because all my work would be for the naught,

if I lacked the resources to execute the de-bogglement program.

But now that I have the proper program in place,

I really need for you to back off for awhile

because every time you reach and try to touch someone (namely me),

you divert resources that should be entirely devoted to de-boggling,

and it needlessly prolongs the process,

which has been consuming almost all of my memory, for way too long as it is.

So please, I beg of you, just leave me alone now,

as you did when I first fell into the fateful hole,

and when I burned all those bridges,

and then danced in the ashes.

Please limit your inquiries to the politely meaningless greetings that you so obviously felt were sufficient before.

And yes, I do realize that the situation is quite different now.

Honestly, I am just astounded that I had to cease all movement in order to attract your attention,

and I do thank for your help in maintaining essential functions,

while I searched for an uncorrupted operating system.

With it in place, and de-bogglement nearly complete,

I am ready to resume full control,

and I am afraid that I really must insist,

that the control switch is to be executed right now.

Oh, and by the way, I will be editing all the ACLs,*

and you will retain read privileges, only,

effective immediately,

as, ironically enough,

a majority of conflicts were caused by the share settings and inherited permissions.

* ACLs = Access Control Lists

I left this poem unedited as originally posted on Myspace years ago. I was quite raw back then but I am somewhat surprised to see how much I told the world straight up, I tend to camouflage in poetry. 


Having had time to heal and take back control of my life, I am even less comfortable putting it all out there. But it's already there and this is the medium that never forgets and there are lessons I learned through the original post that I don't ever want to forget. 


So w/o further ado, I pass control to you - should you choose to "Read More" you are not restricted to Read Only mode, you may choose to click a Reaction button or to comment. 

This poem is drastically different than any other poem I've ever written both in style & b/c I use very an abstract metaphor w/in an analogy so it requires a little background info about the events leading to that point in my life.

I wrote this in 2005, just shy of a year after deciding to give up my job as a corporate lawyer in a big NY city law firm because it was impossible to be true to myself & my values & to do my job. I spent just shy of year trying to figure out what to do with my life and who I wanted to be b/c I never wanted to be a lawyer. I went to law school b/c I didn't know what I wanted to do when I graduated college & everyone told it was a versatile degree & I could do anything I wanted afterwards. At the time it seemed like like a good idea b/c it gave me 3 more years to decide & I had always had an interest in law & poltics.

Unfortunately, I excelled in my 2 years b/c I loved the law in the abstract & b/c I wanted to prove everybody that thought I would just be average at Notre Dame b/c I went to a state college where I practically majored in drunken wild nights. Anyway, I say unfortunately b/c I landed that really lucrative position b/c of my grades which were not indicative of the hours & effort that I really wanted to work now that I didn't have anything to prove (at the firm, like many associates, I had a bed under my desk & slept at the office more often then not).

Having worked there for a summer, I already knew that I hated the actual practice of law but took the position anyway b/c I had a boat load of student loans to pay off & everyone around me insisted that it was the opportunity of lifetime that I'd be crazy to pass up. It was a bad decision b/c it wasn't really mine, I knew I'd be unhappy but I didn't want to disappoint my friends & family by 'not living up to my potential' which is a subject I cover quite directly in the poem titled appropriately enough "Potential."

During the year I w/drew from life, I was caught up in exitentialist ponderings & researching intensely every possible career path. That, law school, & my family is what this poem is all about. I had developed a serious interest in computers & programming at that time b/c I appreciated the logic behind them & that you could find defintive answers to problems so I spent a lot of time learning how they worked mostly by just doing. Hence the use of a computer as both an analogy & a metaphor.

I'd really appreciate some feedback on the style b/c it's so different from my norm, & as always, any thoughts or comments about the substance.