A little bit of hormonal rambling

Why is it that at certain times things seem so clear and at others - they are as fleeting as the wind?
Emotions are a wicked tool used to confuse and belay any honest paths.
Why is it that we are constantly bombarded by images on the screen, and chase the dreams of perfection that do not exist?
What is the point of going through the motions, if the outcome is always the same?
We are but solitary islands, floating in the vast ocean of the conscious.
At times colliding, but save for that moment, casting out our lines to try and recover the promised land we have heard stories of.
The grand illusions of togetherness
The chased dreams of what may be.
The harmonies of calling out blending with those of the others, making a strangely fitting and haunting song.
Are we connected in our isolation?
Living for the moments that our islands touch, the sensation of togetherness.
Or is it all a puzzle?
Just aching to be put together
And we are too busy with our own islands to realize we are all but pieces of the same wondrous picture,
and the calling is the yearning, the deep knowledge, covered by years of being jaded, that we are not so far apart as we would seem.
Is the truth in the fleeting moments of lucidity?
Or in the breaths of wind that sail our islands.
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Wrote this today. Having a day, you know the days, the ones where things just don't seem like they are fitting into place, where all you want is not quite what you have, and what you have is momentarily forgotten.