man, just listen to that noise. all around you, at all times. even a refrigerator running or the monotonous hum of a computer has a tone. it has that potential of musicality going for it. if i focus on it, all the dissonance hurts my head. which is probably why i push it to the background most of the time.

there has to be something here i could say that i haven’t put forth in some form or another. i haven’t been writing anything of consequence for what feels like forever, but is probably closer to 6 months. my feeling of time is being relatively adjusted by myself. but lately i keep asking myself what i want out of this life, and keep drawing a blank. anything sounds pretty good to me, considering i have the option to do almost whatever i want. i could do anything and be moderately good at it, and then move on to being moderately satisfied. how very mediocre of me.

but what would be that push for greatness, that burning desire to achieve more? to what end? all my life i’ve never really aspired for anything, never thought “i’m not going to rest until i achieve this goal” unless it was assignment/requirement, and i’ve been OK with that. but if i am OK with it, then why do i question what i want out of life, since by my definition, i already have it?

touche, ego. but you’re not getting off that easy. unfortunately, neither am i.

i see it raining outside, and even though i cannot hear it, i can conjure up the sounds, the feel of that rain. i can feel the noise wash over me, with its regular percussion. the cold wet feeling that erases all conscious thought, filling up into a sea of forgetfulness, wondering if i’ll ever be dry again. wash out all this order and chaos, cleanse me of assigning values and judgment calls, and let me be.

drain me of that which i am, and leave the husk to discover what is truly missing without me. my body and spirit, left at an arms-length apart, but with no perspective to see it for what it is. both staring into an empty void, unable to reconcile that which does not exist, left clawing at nothing. who are you? soft whispers of what could be dance slowly to the ground, in a waltz both terrifying and enchanting. a single point of light emanating from an unknown source destined to go at the speed of light to a destination that does not matter.

it all comes full circle, in the end.