Random Thought Bubbles

is it during pure joy or utter despair
that only do we realize we are solid?
then to pass through life grey
would be to pretend the dead can walk.
is it only at the extremes of feeling
when light is virgin white or hellish black
we can believe a breath is real?
that all the in-between quiet
was a dreamtime in pause,
till the moment of release.
then what is living but for the flashes
of complete emotion.
not halfway, not just
sometimes, sometimes nearly
but always a search, a waiting
for that sudden, unexpected
surge of electric happiness,
or sadness.
that of which we cling so desperately
to remind that we are indeed

Alive.