I have no moves or do I?

Possibly it is everything and nothing. Maybe as an artist or a writer of blogs I cannot connect with the me. The true me, the me under all diguises still aching to be heard, seen. The true me lurks beneath the expectations I have of myself. And yet she speaks in another language that is not perceivably.

Maybe this is the brilliance of the moment of knowing. Of knowing that regardless of all things in physical reality, I may or may not ever know the true essence of what it is to truly be myself. Does a bumper car know itself without bumping into another bumper car?

Who the hell knows bumper cars might or might not be a figment of my imagination. A figment of a life I once knew and yet can only piece together as my head is being flung as another hits me.

Once I was hit by a buddhist monk. In my car. I was hit by a buddhist monk on the freeway. As I sat in my new car I was hit by a buddhist monk.

While I interpreted it one way maybe it was a completely different way. Maybe and yet maybe not. Maybe everything I experience is not exactly real or not real.

I wake up and find myself in a bathtub trying again to find a moment where I truly understand. And I begin to think that I have reached the zenith of understanding with ear mites. My ears itch. Goodnight.

Happy new moon in Pisces! Had another post ready to post on this new moon but then changed my mind. I decided to be the fish that I am and just speak. Happy new moon in Pisces!

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