How you strobing?

I have great doubts about what I am doing; what I have been doing since 1986; furthering a creative thing that is one side of me that is one of these things: bottom-rate, pointless, shameless, middle-of-the-road, unremarkable, remarkable, top rate... Writing, weirdmongering, nemonymising, brainstorming, neteracting, publishing, dreaming, imagining, fictioneering, publicising, withdrawing, shoving, being shoved... 

I explore the secret wheels myself and become lost in spinning.  Yet then another day, I find a focus when the spinning eyes are timed exactly with a satisfying rhythm. This is all very pretentious; quite distasteful to express these quandaries as having passed through my mind at all: a strobing between self-confidence and lack of self-confidence (unself-confidence?).  Why make this song and dance?  Can Zen have a core?  Is zero mathematical? Which strobe am I?

Which strobe are you? 

(I wrote this very quickly. Unpolished, like much of what I do or say? Today seems to be one of lop-sided spinning then toppling (hence this post).  Perhaps tomorrow will find the top whirring sweet as a nut, perfect as a cone.)