So why? When is it complete? How do I turn it off? Should I? Can I? I don’t quite understand. But the vague ache, tug, chest cavity enveloped nudging, pushing, pulling sensation, intermittent but persistent calls.
There is nothing in it for me, I know where I am, going, will end up. I am content, but yet this prods me, I should be sleeping, but in order to appease I must bring to the surface.
I have squelched, suppressed, mollified without success, so I give in.
Then I realize, I am on to something huge, something chased after, never captured nor ever will be, but only dreamed of. It cannot be put into words, expressed or even visualized through the arts, but yet I try, we try, and yet we must.