(no subject)
Why do I keep asking these questions.
they haunt me like a nightmare, only living in my consciousness.
Then I question the reason for question, still no answers. Never any answers.
Only questions.
So why?
And yet another question.
I want to share my existance, yet I find noone.
So I sit here, and I ask the questions, and the questions about the questions.
But yet, still no answers.
What is the point of seeking if I shall never find.
What is the point of living life without questioning.
Live your life and then you die.
Death is the ultimate uncertainaty.
Life is even more questionable.
And yet what can we do?
There are no answers.
There are no ultimate truths.
And even if there were, could my mortable soul be able to comrehend them?
There has to be something more.
I thrive for something more. Yet I find nothing.
I sit here by myself, indulging in cheap buorbon, reminising on the times that are now mearly chemicals in the brain.
I miss the time where I felt I belonged. But where I felt I bolnged was acually unwanted.
It is the worst feeling when somebody dismisses your existance.
They do not care for your life. They do not care for your feeling.
You see them and they pretend you do not exist.
You miss them only for the fact that they provide something that felt real.
It was real for me. It was not real for them.
What is real? Mearly our perception.
What is our perception? Mearly chemicals?
What is life? Mearly something? Nothing?
How am I nymore signifacant than a plant.
A Plant is 'alive'.
'I think therfore I am" ????
But how do you know that.
You can never know.
It plagues me.
Maybe I just need sunlight, social interaction. Feeling something that is real.
I want stimulation. of the mind, of the body and of the spririt. Is that too much to ask?
Hopefull one day I shall find what Im loking for. But even still I dot know what I am searching for.
Maybe Im searching for purpose.
For reason?
For answers? For love? (if there is such a thing)
"like a splinter in the mind, driving you mad."
From day to day, night to night. It haunts me.
they haunt me like a nightmare, only living in my consciousness.
Then I question the reason for question, still no answers. Never any answers.
Only questions.
So why?
And yet another question.
I want to share my existance, yet I find noone.
So I sit here, and I ask the questions, and the questions about the questions.
But yet, still no answers.
What is the point of seeking if I shall never find.
What is the point of living life without questioning.
Live your life and then you die.
Death is the ultimate uncertainaty.
Life is even more questionable.
And yet what can we do?
There are no answers.
There are no ultimate truths.
And even if there were, could my mortable soul be able to comrehend them?
There has to be something more.
I thrive for something more. Yet I find nothing.
I sit here by myself, indulging in cheap buorbon, reminising on the times that are now mearly chemicals in the brain.
I miss the time where I felt I belonged. But where I felt I bolnged was acually unwanted.
It is the worst feeling when somebody dismisses your existance.
They do not care for your life. They do not care for your feeling.
You see them and they pretend you do not exist.
You miss them only for the fact that they provide something that felt real.
It was real for me. It was not real for them.
What is real? Mearly our perception.
What is our perception? Mearly chemicals?
What is life? Mearly something? Nothing?
How am I nymore signifacant than a plant.
A Plant is 'alive'.
'I think therfore I am" ????
But how do you know that.
You can never know.
It plagues me.
Maybe I just need sunlight, social interaction. Feeling something that is real.
I want stimulation. of the mind, of the body and of the spririt. Is that too much to ask?
Hopefull one day I shall find what Im loking for. But even still I dot know what I am searching for.
Maybe Im searching for purpose.
For reason?
For answers? For love? (if there is such a thing)
"like a splinter in the mind, driving you mad."
From day to day, night to night. It haunts me.