It’s about everything and nothing. And some things. Can you grasp the point I'm trying to correct? Last time didn't go to well. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea. About me and the person I am and any of this. I'm not so far away. I'm right here. You can say hello. Come, sit. Let's all say hello. You can bring me in back to reality. With just a word. It's that I don't know that I'm gone. When I’m gone. If only I could get a sign. Something to show me that I’ve checked out. Realizing all this, I should be able to come back on my own. Know. Try. Fail. It doesn’t stick. I need an anchor point in reality. That constant in a temporal sea of variables. A ghost in the ether. So unaware. And time, the scheme of things, keeps rolling along. Without me. You can bring me back. I want you to bring me back snap me out of it. Because I am missing so much. I miss Human contact. And I miss thinking it matters. I mss thinking I matter. Everything spirals into nothing. And round again. Balance is a plate spinning on a broom handle. The goal is to ride out the spin till it stops. The lid on a cauldron is a cooking pot. Balance is also the waiter , apron off, sleeves rolled up that’s holding the broom.