Where

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.