Guess again

A musician called it “vapor.”
An apt description, I thought when I heard it.
Impossible to catch, nail down or hold on to.
Basically a mist.
I call it another name, but we’ve all heard it
and it’s not very artistic.
You feel it too, I guarantee it.
No matter your ethnic background.
Or your economic status.
Or geographical location.
Or religious belief.
Or sexual preference.
Or lack thereof.
It creeps into the back of your mind, and
takes up residence.
Shaken and unconfident, it leads to irrational
choices and hasty decisions.
It’s at the root of this thought:
“Maybe I’m all there’s ever been.”
Perhaps it’s just me alone again.
A musician called it “vapor,”
What do you call it?