There are no beginnings
Just days tacked onto days
Without rhyme or reason
Monotonous assemblies of occurrences
My thoughts come crashing inward
My surroundings change while I remain motionless
Not feeling the steps this body has taken
Exhausting, pervasive, overpowering
Spreading from the edge like an oil stain
Horrified by my own existence
You grasp at the veil
A layer rolls back and you're met with just an existent
Independent of space and time
One cannot seize it
For it is always just beyond
Reaching, groveling
Searching for the ideal unity of infinity
You never truly find yourself
Never finding yourself
Only the nausea
