slip't away

I am looking for a language,
not taught to me,
not adopted by me.
I need a language,
but they all seem to slip away.

If I could outshout myself; silence the chorus of other voices muddying the stream; I'd truly be able to communicate clearly. It may be brilliant and interesting to refer to a thousand different things at once, but for real coherent image to form with language it must be honed to a needle-point. Those of many voices shall touch many faintly, but none intensely.

I have never been able to ignore my surroundings, yet at the same time I am completely oblivious of them. I am jarred out of contemplation by countless distractions, yet they are the only things which stop me from disappearing into the air. I am caught, in a limbo, called life. I need to be born, I need to die, I need to do both at the same time. Perhaps my quest to be a master of language is impeding me, perhaps I must let go of my need for communication.

Is not the greatest wisdom to sit in the wild repose of understanding, touching the air, tasting the sun, hearing the colours, smelling the grass and seeing all of it at the same time? I'm going to slip away quietly, but my body might continue to go through the routines of life. This is my down-going...