i crave for something i am not even sure of. or is it that i've begun to doubt? at times i believe i am beginning to understand the hunger from the thirst. it makes me loop around and... nostalgia, that old friend, simmers close by. the truth is that i don't know what i'm doing. if i am my own best friend, i must admit that to myself. i feel a seperation of the selves. readily my physical self wants to admit that it is the person that i am not. but ay, they all work in one after the other, in correspondance with one another. so my physical self hushes and gives way to a grandeur frame. but all the while, the self of thought and reason flinches and ...... receives unkindly?
lethargicly survives?
which leads the physical self to excuse and attempt to prevent the flinches.
clearly, these flinches are essential to one's well-being.
it is but the scale they are experienced at that can make a world of difference substance.
if nothing here can quench my thirst, perhaps somewhere else can
and to attain such things, i need not leave here and find a divine being on a path of earth