I Do Not Know

i do not know anymore what to think so i freewrite hoping the words would take me where structures of thought never could only could confuse me what is there anyway than a mere glimpse of sanity so utterly convinced by itself of defensibility whatever that means i always end up babbling a bubbling repertoire of thought bubbles pierced by answers only half-men can give or retrieve or grieve about ah the snout the snout of such frenzied creatures saying over and over again the merits of free association in speech what the hell does that mean the relief of naming things beyond lacklustered words denies the fact that words grow out of thought in order to bear thought i thought i saw a pussy cat had never quite meant like that to whoever traverses the complexity of feline mystery i dare say i am both inept and adept in equal measures where sensitivity to what bothers me is concerned the rest is up for the auction of a lifetime: gentleman's bid goes right up to sixty billion just for mere stone griffins smiling that Mona Lisa smile is warmth something that something as cold and hard can achieve or is it just the imagination rolling on the floor of the Universe laughing out loud who knows who's to say there nary is a wary soul befitting such indulgence of innocence gilded as heresy to be plundered by the growing darkness within every sun-bearing heart ah such tart commentaries rivaling the harpies of old grow cold like turkey in a haunted closet of a fridge like the skull of Dolores Umbridge