never you mind

never can intend 

what is happening.

all too vast to grasp.

pick out particulars

to secure a sense of control.

even every intake is selective.

choose that which makes for familiar. 

it's all a free-fall of inner narrative blather.

my senses know what I want to feel.

explanation is in rough translation.

everyone else seems mostly calm

and so we pretend a projection of knowing.

somehow we all get by,

by simply agreeing that we generally agree.

being mentality preoccupied 

helps with this process,

even if my feeling state goes unshared.

for I dwell in a waterfall of emotions passing.

only touched by those very close at hand.

assume the rest as significant in passing.

but only directly aware of those that I inwardly wash.

wet is at best the experience I have.

cleaned will be my excuse to the world.

next moments are narrative gravity suck.

knowing seems like the air I need to breathe.

if I went numb and blank, 

would time still pass,

and I would have to account for that? . . .