Most of the time I am simply present. I see, I hear, my senses draw conclusions.
The rest of the time I'm terribly alive, terribly happy, and terribly sad.
What keeps this river flowing? Is draught the only answer to a pause? I fear I'm about to drown in my own selfishness. I need to get out, right now.
But I'm so lost . . . I don't know if I'll ever find my way.