I feel.

Enthralled in rapture. Yet remain quietly serene.

Wanting to chase the rush of pure energy. Yet sitting perfectly still.

I hear.

The universe conducting a symphony before me, expounding on the dissertation of the secrets of the universe. Yet I calmly sip my coffee, distracted, while tapping a random beat against the curve of the mug.

I see.

All that is offered, infinity upon infinity. Yet my eyes are watching numbers across a fading screen.

Q. Lenise LEe

What does this all mean?