respectively i don't

Blue sky feel like maybe there’s something

Something not smothering, maybe slightly covering,

Like a burial cloth, or a blue sky at night

When there’s depth between the stars, but not too much

I don’t want to fall forever

Never would I have, nor have you

Understood what you have said, nor have i

Respectively

These words leave my mouth and travel through the byzantine

But it would seem they never make it through all the way

Is there a minotaur in your ear?

Following these dead waves as they pass from sound into silence heard only by neuron receptors that shoot off sparks in ways that I simply don’t understand

I don’t

And you don’t

See:

We’re all so scared that on some level we’re going to resemble the other next to us

And if a similarity breaks through and bleeds to the eyes of all around,

We’ll lose a piece of the esteem we beg for, starve for

There’s an art in becoming yourself, do it well enough they’ll want an encore

But what we fail to see:

In the words of whichever said it first, and whoever has yet to sing themselves to sleep by it:

I am me and you are

So can we admit that lonely exists?

It exists in a way that brings us together,

it exists in a way that rips us so far apart that Altar and Vega will feel consoled

Can we admit that somewhere in trying to define ‘me’ we lost ‘us,’

And that sometimes we’re too afraid of nothing to do anything about it,

I heard about a man who carried fear on his back, and mystically did something with it

I don’t believe it, but I love the idea

I don’t believe many things anymore, but I love the ideas

Concision and Verbosity

OF LATE, I've found myself thinking myself into paradoxical corners. Things like "there are no absolutes" and such pop up in my head, then it's sheer existence shoots itself down. I desire to arrive at conclusions that are clearly correct, yet I'm finding flaws in everything I think. Maybe because I'm too involved, but some people can give opinions and views on things, and when I mull them over in my head, they seem fool proof.
What am I missing that keeps me from being a god of ideas? Why can I not let brilliance flow from me like carbon dioxide.
I'm also noticing a divide between the people I know. It seems to be age related. I think those that are older have stopped, in spite of how much they will claim otherwise, searching. They have arrived. In many ways, their journey is over and now they are simply exploring where their minds have landed. But for me and my kind, my age at least, there is some desperation to our searching: not because we are longing for a place to stop, but because we are terrified there is one.
I understand it's impractical, but I want my thoughts to be infinite. I hate the idea of settling, of having a fixed thought process. I want to be able to shuffle between various philosophies, dance with the Greeks, laugh in Italian, banter in French, be drunk in German, soak all of the knowledge in.
But things seem to be so binary, and it's disheartening. As infinite as things are, they seem to be dualistic inherently. I want not the middle space, but the area away from the tension. I want to play the tension.
I want to never stop learning.
I want to write without resorting to pretty sounding sentences to mask the point that this is no longer neccesarily supportable, but simply enjoyable. Hopefully.

I desire concision, but the freedom to be verbose.