I lay out there drifting weightlessly somewhere in empty space surrounded by the darkness of the universe Floating on nothing Lost in nothing I and my thoughts Unimaginably alone, — solely Unsad, content, clueless Too distant even to the nearest star Immersed in timelessness About 1:53 am in the feel The past an ashen memory No smoldering feelings I see my future winding through an echoing passage tiled with absorbing pictures turned into movies They distract consistently I am confronted with a view at the end A lookout point into future space, unlike anything I could ever conceive Visible is an indeterminately gigantic, colorful, spoked wheel of dimensions At the hub, where all dimensions meet: the bright center of fertility The source of anything, known also as nothing Close together here unfathomably far apart further out It is all so clear now: In order to keep on floating, I must stay lost and I must stay in a state of not-knowingness That is pure freedom, unbound from existence My only way back to source From this virgin source of nothing I can follow any spoke leading to any dimension Each dimension is another universe Probably entirely unimaginable from our reality As I engage thus I become un-lost in my new knowingness Now I am bound again I don't drift towards a new future I am the new future ...soon to become the newest past and be lost and clueless once more Drifting, floating, clueless, lost in nothing Towards a new future