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Station 15: Untitled (2)

I sat down, knees bent inward.

Surrounded by light.

My hair raised, floating.

Soundless.

Where am I?

The details blurred.

Or were nonexistent altogether.

I was sitting.

But there was nothing to sit on.

Nothing to see.

Emptiness.

What was I doing?

I tried to remember.

There was nothing to recall.

A blank slate.

Should I remember?

What is remembering?

What am I?

I am everything.

When there was nothing.

I felt nothing.

I could not see myself.

Even though I knew I was there.

I could feel myself sitting down.

My knees bent inward.

My hair floating

How did I know?

How could I feel what is there?

When I felt nothing.

I reached up to pull my hair.

Nothing happened.

Was it there?

Do I have hair?

Or did I not reach at all?

Was there nothing to feel?

What is feeling?

To feel is to touch.

Or was it to think?

What was there to think about?

Why question it?

What is questioning?

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