You know like, when you're feeling that you could just write and write and whole paragraphs and blocks of text just whiz past and time itself seems to stand still as you keep on plodding away at that keyboard, writing out our thoughts as and when you get them and you start feeling lighter with every escaping word that someone would get to read someday and hopefully understand and not judge you for it or hate you or just plain ignore you and then you think that maybe its all just inside your head and the stuff dreams are made of, and then you suddenly think of cotton candy because you're reminded of how soft and bittersweet it is at the same moment, and like clouds that thunder away and you just want to stand in the rain and think about things and how and what it all means and what you're meant to do and how you're ever going to do it and if it even matters at all and how it takes ages and ages to build something up from scratch and how in a moment of fury you can destroy it faster than blinking and how we're all just the same really and no one deserves to not be happy and then you feel sorry for having that much regret pent up inside you and you try to smile and feel blessed and thank Allah for all that he's given you, every little thing that matters and even those that we hardly ever get to know and wouldn't even have thought to ask for, just go on working and being themselves until suddenly there's that one little bugger who decides to kick up a fuss and then you meet them and get to know all about them, and all the while planning how you're going to take them out and send them back to being the non-existential, little flecks of protein they were before they hogged up your bloodstream with the most lethal dose of confused thoughts that keep nagging at you all day long, threatening to make you lose your calm and wanting to just break down and cry and then amidst all that confusion and darkness there's a sudden call for hope and you've heard that call before but you never really understood it, but now you want to yield to its soft beckoning but there's still something holding you back that doesn't really want you to be happy and tells you that its all just a fancy illusion that'll break the moment you step in and leave you hurtling down the sky, forcing upward your heart to the back of your throat as you try to clutch at the branches of those tall oaks that flash past whose wide trunks you used to look up to, wondering about all that was up there, but you're left with nothing more than torn leaves in your hands and you think about your life till then and what it means and if it even meant anything at all and what you would do if you were able to do what you wanted to do and not just wander about like some lost sheep till you find something that really points you to a worthier direction, different from any other path in the jungle before and then you think about battling tigers and encountering sphinxes and all sorts of hidden treasures in the forest but somehow you're not afraid now and you're actually eager to get going because you see these people on the far edge and they look happy and they've got this faint, amused smile on their faces, as if they know exactly the battle that's going on in your head and they even nod at you once or twice and that gives you the courage you needed to get over that final break in the bridge, that missing step from the staircase that you know will lead you wherever you want to go, and then suddenly its not about winning at all and you think about each level as you take it, one step at a time, and then fleetingly, you look around and there are others, and they're all on the same path and then you realize that it's not your path but the only path and that the edge of the forest is the only edge and you want to shout it out to all the others and jump for joy that you've found what it meant before all was lost and you're finally living in the moment.

But I don't think I've found it.