our lives are but chaos with patterns of order intruding upon reality

streams

lost in contemplation
there is no end
voices thoughts feelings images
swirling through my head
no end
no beginning
it must all be one
all these contemplations equal
one



trying to make sense of my being and my position in the world is beyond me. often, perhaps more often than I'd admit, I find myself questioning myself and my usefulness. what have I done? what am I capable of contributing to this world that will fulfill this desire to be an active participant on this speck of dust? when I think about this I almost always come to an understanding that there isn't an answer. when I look at my life there is little of it that seems as if I took an active roll in the events I remember. I wonder if that is the reason for my questions or my current situation. does my perceived lack of effect on the events that affect me lead to further separation between me and a reality in which I actually do have an impact? or perhaps people who feel in control are deluding themselves. perhaps they have as little control over their course through life and yet have convinced themselves they are where they are because of the choices they made. no one can create choices. there is always a limited selection based on the events occurring around you. perhaps that's as much control as I can hope for. in the long run I can't help but believe that I will continue to float along in the stream I've always been in. perhaps I should get off my raft and walk into the forest.