Dreaming as though you're on top

All art is inherently useless, but so is everything else.
I just want to drop pebbles in the water and watch it ripple away to nothing.
And playing God is all that's on my mind. But we're all playing at something.
I've come closer to the Platonic truth that we are all seeking an ideal and going about that by images.
We're all in Strawberry fields. Recreating that moment when we forgot such things and just felt. That's all it is: feeling.
Are there electrical impulses to the soul?
Mine remind me of you.
And the idea of infinite possibility lights me up, even though it is purely an idea that will forever be ephemeral. But isn't that beauty?
Driving into the sun, feeling it's warmth and craving that sense that you'll get somewhere, but being blinded and burned.
That's recreation.