I don't know

I'm in free fall, there's no up, no down, and hands point in all directions for eternal projections. The sum of my parts shear against mathematical walls, seeking an anchor as I spin around. All I feel is gusts and gales as I sail. No vision through the confusion, no method of navigation. Even so my pulse prevails. Days,weeks, months and years mean nothing. Still no break, but for a soft landing is all I'm hoping. Moments and events don't register. Faces and their bodies are only unclear. Being alone when I land is all that I fear. And looking forward or back doesn't help cause nothing ever matters but the moment itself.