Echoes from the past,
Shouts from the future,
I float downward indefinitely.
Unable to fully perceive my surroundings,
My most sincere efforts merely alter my unknown course.
Stability is relative.
Clarity is a privilege.
My medium is the air
In which the only matter to push against
Is known to give way.
And so it seems my existence
Is to gain substance
While moving.
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