some midnight thoughts

 I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ll never understand myself in my entirety. Because all that I sense of my entirety; at the very ceiling of it, is boundless. As I pause, my resolve lands me at this exact point. If I can’t understand me, who else will? Are we even meant to be understood or experienced? The less definition I put to the little things that make me me, the easier the roller coaster ride becomes. Why is it that I want so badly to understand all that I am? I guess this insatiable need is that very flame that burns within. A signifier of life. Once its vapor goes, all curiosity that once accompanied it ceases to exist and you’re as good as dead. In being, I find that expression and introspection are the dualities that I rummage through. Like a kid searching for the pocket they put their lunch money in, I’m fervently searching for all of me in this life. Is it possible to find it all? To have it all? To know it all? If I’m as boundless as the void itself, it couldn’t be logical to search for my meaning in it. But I still do. I still believe. In me. In the void. In its creator. In the pursuit of it all. I believe it and I think that’s enough.