I've felt altered all day.
Maybe it is a matter of looking inward. Maybe it's a feeling of connection to the sublimely strange and the absurdity of the human condition.
Maybe it's because I spent some time swimming in the beauty and chaos of my own mind while soaking up the profound energy of everything I observe.
I am the sum of my experience. I am the action and reaction bouncing around a cosmic pinball machine that oddly interacts with other equally confused machines.
Ignorance is bliss but I wouldn't really want to give up awareness of the joke. Laughing at pain, joy in sadness, existential dread wrapped up in chocolate with a nice bow on top.
I sit here, altered. A state of being I wish I could indulge in a lot more often. Eventually, like everything, it wears thin and the doors of perception must be answered. Real life always gets in the way.
I could check out so easily, but I'm not sure what the point would be. Is all my life experience leading up to...what? Poetry in remembrance? A requiem for a life well documented?
Am I really just something to remember?
There are so many things that only I perceive that I can't explain to anyone, not for lack of trying. There's simply no translation for it. If the point of existence is memory, why does it wrap itself into a tapestry that no one person could ever comprehend?
Maybe we really do need each other.
Maybe we really are nothing as individual space.
Inexplicably intertwined as star stuff and dark matter, we float about bouncing off of each other.
Or it's just entropy.
