existential depression maybe
unconscious informational overwhelm,
leaking into a conscious process buildup,
where by I get no recognition
out of what appears to be
cognitively happening.
there is an emotional calling
for deep insight to register
as observational and named.
but the volume of depth is massive.
there is no penetrative clarity forthcoming.
nothing registers in recognition terms.
the perception is arduously unfulfilled
and a feeling state emerges
with a vast emptiness as its fill.
there is an unidentifiable
emotional heaviness,
like feeling-labored
in a different kind of gravity circumstance.
not hard on the body
but by conscious awareness,
a labor as if a long endured traveling
under a water-weight existence.
time is oppressive.
next thoughts have to share their space
with a larger occupancy of the unknowable,
like a blindspot made evident
but still unseeable in resolve.
it is a presence
that consumes
most of the metaphorical viable air.
it is incessant in a closing-in sort of way,
like a coming to full-term
but not knowing that process in advance.
just being in and aware of it
as it is happening,
without timeline measures to work with.
it feels involuntary but ongoing anyway.
the awareness is a form of capture,
happening from within there.
I watch and wonder as if a witness to,
but not know what it all means in process.
feel like I am astutely rambling
without a destination clear in my mind.
it is a phase, in a sense,
can pass without resolution
or conclusions made.
I am aware of the cloud of it thereafter.
no wiser but cognizant
of its appearance for then.
not sure what to have as a reaction,
curious but unclear,
relieved but deeply interested.
want to go back but better equipped.
not sure of,
if there are outcomes yet undisclosed,
transitory but penetrative in nature.
life is this self experiment,
open-ended as if ongoing . . .
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