The Scientific Mind

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Why do I see the light? Is it photons or a dream?
Why is the world a glitch in a biological stream?
I’m breathing... but is it a choice or a reflex arc?
A spark in the synapses, lighting up the dark.
Wait—"consume and don't create"—did I think that or hear it?
A YouTube video from Tuesday? Or is it my spirit?
Does an original thought even exist in this head?
Or am I just a mirror of everything I’ve read?

And here comes the exam... the "mere paper" fear.
Am I curious or just escaping the atmosphere?
How dumb to believe in the weight of a grade,
But the pressure is a ghost that will never be stayed.


It’s a scientific mind in a cage of self-doubt
Calculating the exit but never getting out.
I associate pleasure with the dopamine screen
But the real comfort's hidden in the "might have been."
I’m a girl in the corner, crying at the math,
Searching for a variable to change my path.

I love the Chemistry, the Physics, the Flow
But I fear the "memory"—the things I don't know.
I completed a book... but was it enough?
Or am I just playing with intellectual stuff?
My parents’ silent hope is a needle in my chest,
While I smile at the table at this self-made mess.
Junk food and algorithms, a cycle of shame,
While the books on my shelf whisper my name.

I pick up the volume, I hug it so tight
It used to be a home, now it’s a source of the fright.
The paper feels cold. The ink feels like lead.
I’m mourning the version of me that is dead.


Can I go back?
To the work... to the joy?
Or am I just a machine that I chose to destroy?

The version of me once lived this termoil
-WeDebateOfficial