I think, therefore I’ve got a brain. I’ve grown up with it. It’s not perfect, but I can live with it (well, I have to, actually).
I’m living in the past, because
The things I hear or see
Or touch or taste or smell take time
To travel here to me.
What’s more, my eyes and ears and nose
Ignore a lot of stuff.
The signals that they register
Are just not good enough.
And once they reach me, they must then
Be processed by my brain,
And made sense of as best it can
(It can be quite a strain).
They paint a picture in my head
Of what the world might be:
A hundred billion neurons’ worth
Of mental imagery!
They’re all I’ve got to go on, but
As data, they’re a sham.
They’re incomplete and late – and yet
They got me where I am!