Questions

It’s 12:05 pm, and still there is no sun. A hint of grey clouds and still it doesn’t rain. What to believe in and in what to keep hopes sometimes seems absurd. To go with the flow or to try, struggle and go against it? Again sometimes seems absurd.  I don’t understand if finding it absurd is about giving up or is it about having enough and finding a new route. Either way it sounds like giving up. That again is difficult to accept.

What is “worth”? How do I know? Thinking on it, trying to find a way, a solution and feeling relief even if for a moment is illusion then, what is real? What is being lucid? How do I know I’m in illusion?

Pleasing is bad. So I thought. But to the ones I love the most; it doesn’t look that bad when I see them smile. That makes me happy. So is it or is it not? I like the feeling of being happy. Sounds selfish? But still it is not.

What is life about? What do I do? How do I find out? Trying and then waiting for it to work out is like a test on my patience. And I’m running out of it. Is it about being happy? Or is it about being selfish at times to be happy? Or is it about letting go of some things, to let that loved one be happy? How do I learn to let go? Which sounds like giving up to me. A pain.

How do I know when I’m being insanely absurd? Wanting everything I love. Wanting everything.  I’m being ‘freak’ by wanting everything. For some, it’s being greedy. But then why should I care? Everything I’m talking is like a mixture of confused thoughts. Which is again absurd. And I sound like I’m in love with the word absurd.

Being myself. What is that? What is “me” when “being me”, when there are so many “you”? Who is “me” then? How do I know? Sometimes intense. Sometimes extremes. Sometimes vulnerable. Sometimes funny. Sometimes something else. The state of being angry and saying things which I don’t mean, but I would want to mean, just because I’m hurt. Why else would I be angry? But then again wonder why should I be that when after sometime it might not mean anything to me? Why can’t the mind then just skip to that phase and let go? The state of being euphoric. Being self, is being what you feel like at that moment? What is being fake? Is it trying to feel and be that? Is it a lie to others or a lie to self?

Being able to be one thing with everyone, completely true to self, and yet not able to be that self with one specific or maybe two. There is no sense of being a lie to self then, it is just a restriction. Sounds like a restriction to maintain some things, because however hard I try to feel indifferent, it still matters. That is why the restrictions maybe. Or maybe just scared. Or maybe because that specific means more to me and yet wanting that specific to know the other “me”. Is that being “me” in that situation? When I don’t enjoy the restriction and a bit uneasy because of that. What is “me” then? Two or maybe three or maybe four me to different people? Or is it manipulating self according to situation?

Just when I’m about to reach a conclusion about “me”, something new in self is discovered. It is sometimes an amazing feeling. And then again I question, “Who am I?” Who is “me”?

It is difficult to just go on existing. It is not at all agreeable. The questions are frustrating.

Wanting something badly. The value of it is more when not around. How to keep it still when I get it? It kind of lessens, without realizing it. Admitting this is difficult, makes me feel irresponsible to self. But then isn’t it the truth? Sometimes kicking that “something” away and yet feel nothing. Surprises me. Irony. Wanting and then not feeling a bit for it. Feelings are important then?

Else how will I question all this without feeling? How will I think on everything and nothing without feeling? When to know when it is important? Sounds absurd.

Finding an answer, and then leave? Why death? In everything. End of life, end of feelings, end of will at times.  Even if there is a belief that this will last. Why?

There is no end to this. Even if there is an answer, there is a want for a better one. For a sense of satisfaction. Everything has to have a reason? I love you, because? There has to be a reason? I enjoy doing this, because? There has to be a reason? Isn’t it obvious it’s because I love it? And it has to have a reason to your “why”?

It makes me complicated because I think? It makes me all complicated because I want answers? Ignorance is not bliss every time. Fools are ignorant.

What is simple then?

Life? What is it all about?

What was all this about? :-?

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