With Ambivalent Meanderings

I feel at times I am not myself.
With ambivalent meanderings,
Followed as if I am a guest...
Visiting each step taken.
As if I should make with intention,
Precise decisions.
With a purpose to store to be tested.

My mind sometimes protests,
Logic and comprehension.
And I find it is best to let go.
Instead of seeking definition,
For everything to make sense.
When there are days I could care less,
What anything means.