Who am I trying to impress, if not myself?
Am I escaping the rarest form of reality
by giving it ultra deep meaning or overlooking
it as selfishly as I sought to realize it?
I sit alone in these trances of meaningless thought
never coming to any conclusions.
So what's the use?
Yet another questionable thought without an answer.
Seeing that in everything makes my blood boil.
Knowing I'll never know anything, while everything
is being left unknown.
Manifest Destiny of knowledge failing.
Knowing who I am, pointless.
Knowing who you are, time consuming, yet worthless.
Trying to impress but one thing,
the reality that we never see, yet see's us clear as day.