Irony of non-existence (new title and edit)

[vagabond]

As I thought, it seems we are not  here at all;                        i would leave "as i thought" out, but can´t think of any words what would fill out the first line then.
phantoms, ephemeral and empty of all we think we are.
The loves we have, the music in our lives,
cheese, wine, the thrill of falling, pounding headaches,
sensuality...even orgasmic breath is not reality. Reality?

Perhaps there is no word, no reason to explode       
in to the fleshy fold...betrayal, then,                       "no reason to explode into the fleshy fold", I like that (reason as a metaphor for reality?)
of what we think we hold; the very hand that tender cups
a breast, can steer a blind man, safe across the road.
The solid thump of glass upon the ale-house bar
or sharp, cold ice that points and drops from guttered rooves;
all is stark illusion like hard wind...the same that tuneless blows
in  trees yet carries from the string a melody, music most profound.

Surely writ, a vibratory score, becomes a tear induced to fall;
this heightened sense of what it is to feel....it must be real?
But no...we are a quantum field. Matter mattering so little
as to not disturb the passage of voracious, vectored time.
We war and love in equal measure, kill and cure, comfort and hurt,          i d love to know why you wrote that and if you really meant that those antagonizing concepts are somehow always equally present in our actions.
we make-believe and fantasise, see our dreams
inside another self; not sharing what we need not share
nor caring when we need not care, not loving
when we have no need to love...and yet, and yet...        ... there is a need (to share, care, love) comes to my mind      


We think ourselves in to a world, a time and space continuum,
a framework where such wild beliefs support the thought
that we are here.

Where, though, is here?

And am I in or out  of you, as you are but a part of me...
a timeless, tangled, twisting string
that holds the phantoms in a ring,
captured in the...               where are the wild beliefs captured in, or what are they supported by? can´t quite guess what your answer is but the question is sure intriguing.          

this seems a trail of thoughts as to wether the experience of reality is real, and the mystery of it all.
and the path is pleasant to follow for the reader.



Tektak: “Recent physics ( spelled physucks) tells me I am a near nonentity..”

could you tell me which theory (or aspect of it) does that?