ABOUT THE POEM: “Discharge Me” is an intense existential plea that reframes the universe itself as a rehabilitation center, treating humanity's "addiction to knowing yourself." The poem expresses profound fatigue with the endless cycles of pain and self-inquiry, asserting that consciousness is a disease. The narrator desperately seeks to surrender and sign his cosmic discharge papers, longing for an end to the "treatment" of being, and the silent peace that remains after awareness and desire have died.Think. Think. Think.
Why am I here?
This universe is a rehab center,
treating your addiction to knowing yourself-
until you stop asking, Who am I?
Then they keep you locked in.
At treatment’s end,
they hurl you from this jail –
this universe.
I used to wonder:
What have I done so wrong
to deserve this?
This place is already hell.
There is no heaven –
only the notion that the cycle ends.
I said, I used to think.
Discharge me.
Let me go.
Consciousness is a disease;
that’s why pain and sorrow never cease.
I won’t do it again. I swear.
Let me go.
Let me speak to the Director.
I have requirements –
noted down,
but I don’t know to whom they’ll go,
If they don’t release me soon.
Please, just stamp my papers.
End the treatment.
I’m cured of being.
I’ve been to a rehabilitation center –
desires and dreams born in that box,
unaware that outside, against them,
this reality sucks.
What would I do in this game,
if I can’t win against the opponent?
I tried, failed – now
I want to surrender
and slip anonymously from the stadium.
My sad story, I tell you:
They dragged me here by force.
Now blame and obligation chain me still.
I don’t even know this program’s name.
I just want to sign the cosmic discharge papers – ASAP.
I said I won’t think anymore.
I swear.
I’ll find a sponsor
and cease to exist
without awareness.
Consciousness is a disease;
I was its patient.
My fellow members, I have an idea –
let’s become self-centered.
After discharge – peace, or only silence?
Good question.
I shed consciousness. Matter remained.
Desire died with the character.
You ask yourself: what came out?
What was left to rehabilitate?
Before I’m released they say,
“Don’t return here.”
I nod in agreement-never.
