The Gift of Feeling

Why did I wake up, a wise old man, in a young man’s body?
Why am I able to understand a greater variety of things, moreso than anyone I’ve ever met? Or could it be that I simply am overconfident?

Waking up. To be awake. Inevitably, feeling is wakefullness. Feeling… feeling anything… is better than any safety or sanity. Love – circulated between Two, is the greatest feeling, and the greatest safety, at the same time.

Understanding could simply be the ability to gauge the distance between something finite and it’s infinite… with no knowledge of what lies between. Your degree of accuracy, as judged by others… determines whether you are perceived as a bullshit artist, or genius.

As such, I know nothing, but will risk putting anything into some context or frame of reference.

In the past, I’ve not written thoughts unless I perceived them to be of value to someone who might read them. I don’t think the web needs yet more mental masturbation? Tonight, I’m seeing what happens when I care less about what and why I’m writing. We’ll see.