The Exodus of Fear

I am a finger on a hand, in a glove. I have never seen myself before, just the thimble in which I ride. I have never held a thought in my head, only attempts to figure out how to think. I am not truly individual, just a different four-dimensional region than the one you use to define yourself. I am here to learn how to learn; to remember how to remember. I wont pretend to be artistic, or beautiful, or intelligent, I'll just say what feels nice falling off my tongue and pray that it is truth. I hope I'm not deep, because I've been trying to reach the surface since I was born.