you want answers?
too bad.
the universe deals in fifty-fifty,
a coin flip where both sides
are the edge.

you push truth, it pushes back.
you force meaning, it laughs in void.
1 atm of absolute uncertainty,
no matter if you measure in faith or futures.

yin? yen?
same difference when the market crashes.
the dao of dow jones?
the joe of doe blinking?
fifty-fifty.
half prayer, half ponzi
milk scheme.

you buy the dip.
the dip buys you.
now you’re both bankrupt,
holding receipts written in blood and bitcoin.

high or low?
doesn’t matter.
the mountain knows
it’s just a landslide
waiting to happen.

the ocean doesn’t care
if you call it deep,
or expensive.
it drowns all portfolios the same.
.
force fahrenheit on celsius?
fifty-fifty.
the numbers rebel.
the thermometer lies.
the only real reading?
your panic is liquid.

dollar vs. yen?
fifty-fifty.
both are just paper
waiting to be kindling.

the real currency?
breath.
and even that’s on sale.

the final trade,
all convictions were sold.
bought?
maybe.

the receipt prints,
error, balance unknown.

you scream at the machine.
it responds,
fifty-fifty.
it could rain,
the day after tomorrow.