I can hardly keep up with my own expansion. Can I actually read too much? Learn too much? Progress too much? Causing me to consequently think too much, review too much and investigate too much. Every discovery affects my experiences, and increases wisdom. In a fourth dimensional space, the ghost of who I used to be a second ago would be there.
Am I manic? Or am I gifted? Is it a blessing? or is it a curse? Is it wisdom? Or is it psychosis?
I feel connected to other dimensions. I feel ungrounded. There is a flow of ideas and I am typing about my emotions, because I want to be aware of them. There are things that hurt me too much, so I have locked them away. Today I opened the box and took a handful of sorrow. Now I am learning about all sorts of things, and writing.
I type my pain.