Always adrift a flow of contorted thoughts

I watch as some develop images, becoming physical planes and unique realities

Still others become intriguing ideas, advancing my being to new levels

Most, though, become mental debris, clouding memory and intellection

Mental debris

An inconvenience

A hindrance to intellection

Or maybe, something much more

What do you see when you close your eyes?

That moment

But a second before your nightly slumber

I wonder if you can see as I do

The inner workings of your mind

At that moment

I am able to dive most deeply into the debris

Into an infinite amalgam of my unconscious desires

Of hidden universes and platonic ideals

A place of inspiration and imagination

The mental debris

That uncontrollable substance

It, it is that from which everything that I am

Every memory

Every thought

Every feeling

Originated

Debris is the core of my identity

The conglomeration of information

Of the thoughts and feeling of others

From which I have extrapolated my own identity

You are no different

You are of your debris

And to understand yourself

You must learn

As I have

To dive