What, You Egg?

Here I am, sitting in the dark alone next to the turtle pond. There is no rhyme, no reason, and no sense as the turtles are asleep. I stay up late for no purpose at all and my mind is oft adrift; I worry for the future about the past and evermore the present, but I can't make up my mind and the turtles are asleep. Under muse of calls and drunken babble I excuse myself outdoors, though naught but weary silence do I find myself to meet. A walk to clear my head and maybe soothe my heart under the blaring of the tunes and the bustle of the street, though my presence comforts not while the turtles are asleep. Mayhap I think too much or perchance I think too hard though I cannot answer why; my oft derisive thinking has often drawn me far astray. Do I think myself a fool? Do I think myself used or perhaps misunderstood? Do I really qualify to ask all this of myself? Or maybe it doesn't matter and it never ever did and I'm just some guy slouching at a pool in the dark while the turtles are asleep.