Could it be so simple?
Break down the principle,
And trace the threads that interweave reality.
Do the same patterns that govern the stars orient the psychic content floating in me?
Have I merely been blind this whole time?
Particulars combined and arranged in an infinitude of creative gestalts.
The need for discernment in deciding when to halt has become a reoccurring thought.
Is it based on what I’ve been taught or lessons from creeds that are pervaded by oughts?
How much time do I allot to cognitive wrestlings, such as this?
I could be opening a bottomless abyss.
Yet, dismissing these inquires could prove to be remiss.
Therefore, I continue to persist seeking a degree of bliss from my inner restlessness.