The State I Am In Poem by david lessard

In my periods of self-imposed isolation,
when I am in a state of being,
rather than that of action,
when my passiveness, becomes paramount,
and my ambition is reduced
to one of apathy,
when I exist as an inanimate object,
rather than an object which
reflects life,
when I am present,
but unaccounted for,
when I suffer from
sel-inflicted wounds
and wound others about me,
becoming a wall of inhumanity
that no one is able to scale,
including myself,
a solid nothing,
erected by one's own
faltering ego,
a state of inertia, that following
the laws of physics,
cannot move until acted upon
by an outside force,
(and probably not then either) ,
then I wonder,
what state is it,
that I am in?
Certainly not a vegatative state
as I would not be able to do
whatever the hell it is I am
doing now.
Certainly not a comatose state
as I would be unawake and
unaware of my surroundings.
It's possible that I could be
in such a state of mind
as to not know
just what it is that I am doing.
But that's ridiculous!
I do know what I'm doing.
So, what state am I in?

Why, Arizona, of course!