Not going forward

Sliding through the sea of clouds, my mind became like a piece of seaweed, floating from

one edge of fluffy white stuff to the next. I had no secret desire to become one that could soar amongst the clouds, yet here I was. I had doubts that it would let me go where I wanted, but to be forever here and not being able to land upon where I could, was just as frightening, as having the feeling that I was among the elite of having this bestowed upon me, as it were.

I felt no need to be here or there, but to just be here. It seemed the whole of the world was there looking up at me, as I was not paying attention, nor did I seem to care, but one part of me, wanted to be able to yell at them and ask, Can I ever get down from here? Of course, I could not have heard a reply, nor did it seem that I wanted to. Except that for in some recess of my mind, it was just on the edge of something like a cliff in wanting a part of it to have a means, or a justification of needing a requisition for me to achieve that part of me for a reason of need or want. It's there, but I can't reach it, nor does it come forward. And yet, here I am.