Your hands, they reach out. With no doubt, into empty space. Grab. Clench. Your fists, bring them close, place them under arrest. Close to your chest. Be at rest. Unclench. Stare! You stare, at empty palms. Cold, blue empty palms. Nothing! You've grasped nothing! Cold blue palms. They grasp nothing. A mind devoid of logic. You're bruised. You're abused, by its frolics. GrymmRipper. :]
A thought junkie in search of a raison d'être.