What its like inside these streams of (un)consciousness

Maybe and what if and i could have and i think and its a possibility and all these riddles create a sense of tentativeness devoid of potentially without words of finality coupled with decleratives and imperatives and completely devoid of the sense of certainty that will silent my doubts and fill the gaps created by relentless questioning and endless bouts of futile probing with a solid promises and stability that i yearn for so so fervently 

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