Insolence

The genesis of this post now floats somewhere behind me, as perfect as the whole attempting to be described.
It feels like my dreams tell me secrets. Like they know more than I do. Like those times when you wake up with a song in your head. Where did that come from?
On the inside, I'm afloat, going along for the ride. And all that it constructs is bigger than you, like you'd search for an outside you'll never reach.