Question marks?
One of those random times where night and day have the same colour, weekends merge into weekdays silently, where nothing is happening and you're still bottling up, no one is around and yet you hate hate the company... yea its definitely one of those times.
As we keep working and hoping to exist, do we lie to ourselves about our importance in the bigger plan of things or as the years roll on, creating a dough of many emoticons and emotions, we forget... i don't know what we forget though. I am trying 2 remember that.
I am in my self-imposed sabbatical from reality and people. I have no idea when and where will it end. Its not depression cause I am still with people and in reality and participating but its like an ingredient in me is missing and i dont knw what is that. Its like I am jogging, I am running the track, the absence of the sensitivity and consciousness which helps me reach the end but i have no cause or reason. Everything is in extreme, and yet paradoxically nothing really affects and one cant see the effects either. U see a flicker on the wall and u expect the rain to fall. Doesn't make sense? neither does this state. That is the point.
The reason why i wanted to take this 'break' is to search and be with myself. We escape things... some claim to love working but if one takes away the joy of creativity and need to earn wld we still work? Is it a lie that we love my work? life? friends? family? ourself? In isolation and with free choice would we still choose what we have now? Is it that we actually don't love what we say or the definition of 'love' is all twisted? Can love be self-sustaining, independent of factors, self motivating? is the fact that i use these words to define the word a problem itself or the fact that i am trying to define it? So many questions ... i need to make a jigsaw puzzle of it and try fitting all the pieces together.
All my questions do not lead to finding who I am. Finding oneself is of no true consequence. You might find the gate and yet have no hope. Find the root and yet not be able to flower. We are the answer to a question. But what is that question? Is there a patent answer to all questions or every question has the same answer? I am a solutions to which problem.. my existence is needed to fulfill what purpose?
Or is the answer to everything really just 64?
