Floating

In my mind, I’m pulled from a small stream to the ocean; I wish my ideas would stay small.

Do I wish this? 

I always try to swim my way back to universal truths I don’t know. Because there probably aren’t any universal truths. I am unanchored; there is nothing to anchor myself to. But I’ve lived my life trying to anchor myself or keep anchored. What have I been anchoring myself to; nothing. I am floating around and so is everything else. The impermanence is freeing of course, but scary. And what does it matter if I like it or not. I will still be floating around either way.