I am

I am, that I am.

That’s a fact. But I’m not sure who or what or how that amounts to anything. Like, what is the substance. Just liquid, flowing. Amorphous and transient and fleeting and ethereal. I feel like I’ve been on an acid trip the past several months. But spiritually. In the sense that, I really really really don’t know what is going on. In the sense that, what really matters, and once that is determined, how on earth do I find a way to contribute to that cause.

So I’m working on the prior. Finding what… matters, as if this is a scientific pursuit, as if there is an objective goal, while all along its this spiritual journey to no where, within myself, within this quagmire of mind, full of psychic energies that pull and resist, and shape the efflorescent conception of present being, of a life worth living.