Inversely Infinite

I feel so oddly infinite
But also so inversely infinite.
Sitting.
Watching.
Listening.
Feeling.
Absorbing.
Feeling the state of the air
And the waves of sound colliding.
I want to learn the world.
To feel the ripples in my own consciousness.
To know the feeling of honesty
And the rumbling of love.
I want to know existence as if it were my best friend.
I only know the honesty of myself, breathing in the wind.
I only know the feeling of the ocean running through my hair, the ripples only cleansing.
I only know the current of sound trying so desperately to explain the inverse infinity of its own humble existence.
All I know is this:
The world is always.