Do you ever feel like nothing is real?
And it drains me so much I find myself retracting like a spring suddenly gone stiff, brittle. It’s jumping from well to well but rather than fishing up some water I find only a demanding hole, eating up what I have to offer until I realize oh my god why are you still here? Where are the damn water fountains?
Why do you hide? Why do you feel like you have to hide?
I want so bad to only feel what’s real. What’s intentional. What’s true and solid. Is the constant search for meaningfulness a good thing or is it the road to frustration?
I just have so many loud questions but rarely ever do I have an answer.