I love the posts in here. I can relate to all of them.
I don't even know where to start with this one. I feel like my mind is an ever flowing river, constantly pulled this way and that by abstract manifestations of the world around me, never really settling on something but rather either constantly tumbling down a rocky hill or soaring into the clouds to see everything around me, in sequence. I had a dream the other night that I pulled my eyeballs from my sockets and held them in my hands, looking at them. I stared at them in curiosity before realizing with a shock that I should not be seeing anything at all. At that moment (in the dream), I realized that through my entire life my eyes had never actually worked, and everything I had ever seen was merely a creation of my own mind. To me that represented the intense SELF that I have, the swirling, tumbling mess of feelings, worries, pleasure, fear, insights and all of that which has loosely stitched itself into a sort of ball that likes to call itself 'me'. I can be at once endlessly determined and strong yet be dropped like a fly by a passing thought of my own creation. In some ways I am about as stable as a bowling ball balanced on a cue stick yet in others I sit as solidly as the ocean on the floor of the earth, which may be constantly flowing but never really changes its form or loses it's sparkle, and is filled with countless amounts of life and endless expanses, and is all at once massive and incredible yet fragile and easily damaged, and people like to drive their boats all over it, and though there may be frozen looking pieces at the poles it's still only superficial.
Oh, and I'm constantly sad that one day I will die and any work I put into this transient collection of electricity which forms a home in the fleshy tissue of my brain will be discharged and it's constituent parts will float away into the universe and lose all shape and form which it once had.