The silent noise

Sometimes i feel detached from everything. Everything but things pure, such as nature, truth or knowledge. And children.

I could be at a gathering, a conference, you'd see me smiling, perhaps chatting up a storm, or taking over the room, but i am not there in the consciousness of my soul, i am but floating mindlessly across the sea of noise.

The debris of human noise.

The frivolous me, the rambunctious me, the pensive me, the officious me ...i look at those reflections, but from afar. Lest i be maligned by my own cacophony.

In the sea of noise mine is the silent one. It has always been that way.