Duration: 2:44

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I look within, and ponder the importance of my thoughts.
wrestling with my identity, it's hard to see which layer of
my being is really me, and dissecting each thought, taking it apart,
stealing away at my own presence with the judgement of ages.

mental dimensions, littered like a battlefield, inspirations making
way for the juggernaught of my ego.

how can I create? how can I concentrate when the very substance of
my cognition is fuelled by prejudice.
quantum mechanics tell us that by simply measuring something, you already
change its properties. how then, can I fathom my own thoughts, if by doing
so changes the nature of what I was thinking?
"really, I try to open my mind", says one voice - "you fool, you merely
delude yourself in the notion of your own virtue" says another.

are the voices mine? I have no idea.
assuming that they are, this dictates the course of my interpretation.
it's a battle of hopes versus fears? is that it? are my own fears the sole
obstacle preventing my ascension?

some would teach this, but as worthy as this truth may be - it leaves many
things unexplained.