I don't hear much from the outside world. It is not that I am not listening. It's just that I find that the world is not there. It is there the outside world it is ever prevalent somewhere. I contradict myself with knowledge and thought. Me eyes seem to glare towards me reflecting in instead of out. I gaze upon fluttering ideas bouncing around inside my head. I try to catch and gather them yet they eluded me from reality in their chase. On the occasion an idea is caught I try to clutch on to it tightly in the hope that it carriers me back to reality. I protect the idea as a guardian. I tend to it carefully like a dying ember waiting to catch flame to straw, to find the straw. The the world distracts me in a moment the spark is lost disappearing again with hope only leaving the intent to catch another thought.
Well this was another word dump. The initial thought I used was that of someone in a coma. I came up with the struggle to come back to reality. I might edit this later. If you think I should let me know in the comments.