A thought
A fleeting feeling
An intuition
A glimpse through a portal
Into a hazy definition of
A thing that is fully contained
And within
Itself
An idea
A germ
A nugget forming a new pellet
For a new drop
Or a new hail
A novel potential reality
Lodged temporarily
In a vision
In me
A spark of electrical activity
Neurons firing
Holograph in my mind’s eye
An idea
Aspiring
To be
Hyperphantasia
Letting me see
But wait!
What eye is this?
What “I” is there?
What is this fractionalised “I” that I am supposed to, “supposed” to be?
A million potentials spiraling out of me
And from a singular idea
The sum and solo total
But also the sum of smaller
And notoriously fuzzier parts
That which is my history of all my choices
And that which is the history of the very last one
A corkscrew trail of which
Like DNA
On our pale blue dot
And through our universe
Behind me is spun
What I was
What I am
What I will be and become
Choosing to be free
Choosing to be me
Choosing, unblinkered, to see
For what other choices could there be?
Wisdom of the crowd
Or madness of the mob
To discern a correct way
Through it
And through you all
It would seem
Is my only job