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Another Day I Wish I Could Forget.
Moments of clarity.

In this small little world that I’ve build for myself, I seem to have these brief forays into completely sanity… for a moment I feel both as though I can see the extensive intricacies of the world and that I’m going completely insane for it.
As I sit here battling an illness yet again, 3 am dawning new and Nyquil pumping through my veins, IO try and connect the infinite dot to dot of life.
In the amazing fractal nature of the universe, my minuscule life has a enormous amount of complexity. I am grain of sand on the beach, but my molecular structure is uniquely spectacular, but not noteworthy in any way.
There is such a myriad of though swirling through my mind. Past, present, future. Words flit through my head at the speed of thought, my fingers fail to record them clearly.
Who am I? am I my inner dialog or outward confidence, plastered on with the superglue of practice? Do I matter? What does “mattering” even mean? What even is happiness? Is knowledge good? Or ultimately does it lead to insanity? Do good an evil even exists? Are they simply constructs: a consequence, of a human society?
Am I alone? Do these thoughts that linger in my mind plague others? Some I know must. Some may feel my questions have answers, clear and concise, but as for me I have not found mine.
I could posit the idea that religion might settle my racing mind, give me a higher power to beseech and cling to. But this turmoil inside me, however unsettling, excites me in a twisted way. These thoughts, these questions and the ever critical review of myself, my life, my future; to me it means that my life is real. I am real. I am myself.





 
 
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