The Problem at Hand

I don't even know...

The problem at hand is handling how a fickle problem would:  Little to support and much to chase.  So sit I, circling thoughts through the circumference of circumstance as my stance on standing falls through this hole in my head.

 

Little logic.  Redundant ramblings. 

 

Perchance my purpose relied on chance, with hope in the help of catharsis of semantic thought.  I tend toward repetitive tendencies to mix the concrete mind.  Uncertain solids offer no solution to the abstractions of mysterious mentalities. 

 

So I fail to see (as far as sight can know) where I intended my intent to go, if not predictably ‘round the irreducible problem at hand.

Reviews

[Rachel DeHart]

This is very intense. You explain so correctly how I feel most nights when my insomnia hits in and my brain just runs in circles.

Fantastic!

[Rambling Prose]

I'm not even sure that i have grasped the height, the depth and the breadth of these redundant ramblings, but I certainly think it's a phenomenal piece of writing!

Excellent!