I think it's raining from my basement room
But basements make for faraway ears
And Rain dries up so quickly
I still think it was rain
I think a wind is blowing up above
But wind is such a meaningless thing
Invisible and always gone
I still think it was wind
I think I am up there with the wind and rain
But dreaming is done in bed
And so many winds and rains are dreams
I still think it was me
This poem is from one of my favorite books of all time, Things Not Seen. Highly recommend it to anyone who has lost/is losing themselves.