Blips On Grids

I find myself lucidly dreaming at any of-the-clock, losing myself. I find myself losing myself striving for insignificance. Content to be middling. Mediocre at best, being busied with petty pitter-patter. Under a banner of sub-parity, in it's shadow even, existing as a microscopic nuance the larger scale can pass on by. Unaccounted for and aloof, just blips on grids.