Occulence

Water and earth do not lie, but you will tell me what is right and wrong about people we have never met. You can never know why a thought appears, but I will fall apart without a kind word or look at least every now and then. You are being reasonable, but I am thinking about what I need to get to a better place. I look over the landscape and say, I need to slow down. I am not a young man any more. I cannot rebound from error and I cannot afford mistakes. You will not hear this from me because one mistake would be if I distracted you from your purpose.

I assume you have purpose. The media - which is a word that is fluid with dictionary meaning - tells me what you do. Expert commentators step in and out like water birds too full to fish and too fragile to remain on land.

I know how things are done, which is merely saying I do, without knowing one way or another, but not feeling like I am lying either. I am not feeling like I am lying, but I know that depends on me, not you or some outside source for truth measurement. I think the same is true for you, but I can never be certain. Some avenues go further than others, but none are utter or complete. Certanly, I have never come close to circling back to myself, to seeing myself from a distance so as to be able to form an opinion that I could return to myself for some purpose. I do not know what it would be.