intermittency

Does this feeling warrant examination? What standards are being met or falling short during this expatriation process? The instinct to live in the now, that the cube of experience is ever repeating from this moment backward and forward. The strings that I feel between myself and other living beings, do they stretch, fortify, or break? I know where I move. I know where I feel. What once was part of a carefully structured existence, molded from an unknown gel is now oozing out of every hole in this place we call home. And I’m lost I’m lost I’m lost? Or I’m found? You have to understand that either of these descriptions lose meaning through the process. And I would say that here I am as a conclusion but here I am not, because here I never was and what does it mean anyway? At once we feel and exist to not explain.