Thought process

I think constantly, and as i do i cannot cause my thoughts to make a singular connection, they are continuously moving in constant brain blasts, that you modern humans call "insight", and and it is this insight that monstrously overtakes this cerebral of mine. Although, i can control the limit as i tire over it much of the time, and as i do i come to a census that gives me the idea that these instantaneous thoughts will have no end. But, they come again. When im in my room in lonesomeness, or staring at every human being on the street on my way to the forest, even when im mixing multitudes of numbers in my cortex to make some since of what im even going to do in the next instance. These interconnected thoughts at different intervals have me trapped in a flask of genius. Im the paint on your wall, the poet who makes your heart explode of the feeling of the heart, with electrical impulses and chills that kill you, im the insane seed that take a billion gallons to sprout and when it finally does youre all already too old and dead to see that it was me, to re-live a new era. You can basically see why i became this way. Im in you and outside of you. I look within and try to find a part of you, and i did it so much that i reached that blast of brain paces. These thoughts i guess will never stop, but youll never start moving; not a single one of you.