Please
read...worthwhile, I think. You can decide for yourself when
you're finished.
isn't it peculiar? I do not continue
because there are so many peculiar things in the world.
why is that we have so much figured out about ourselves,
how we can analyze our anatomy down to the last molecule,
but we don't really know much about anything at all?
I am just a young poet, lost in this world
without any purpose but to question my existence.
and quite frankly, many people have ideas about the purpose of life,
but no one is really sure which one is right.
I know my purpose, I think. But do you know yours? Do we know ours?
I don't know, I just don't know! What is life but to sit at your computer,
slaving away, dreaming up your reality when it could be sitting right in front of you?
What is life but to ponder, to try to comprehend? No one has the answers, no one knows the facts!
We can only guess, we can only use the word of mouth, and is that good enough for some?
We believe, we dream, we take no action. What do we do now? We are utterly trapped
in a tiny sphere of existence, with no way to know for sure what lies beyond.
I believe what I believe to be true, and I believe it to be honest and good.
I exist separately from the world, as do you. As does everyone.
We can become firefighters or doctors or carpenters, thinking this, surely this, is the purpose of my life.
Is it, though? I can't even begin to muster the courage to do much of anything,
and perhaps we as humans are meant to simply...live. Maybe we were never meant
to wonder about the paranormal, to doubt our very existence, but of course we do anyway.
Maybe we tend to overthink a bit, when all He wanted us to do was live.
more poetry on my other account freefall_
isn't it peculiar? I do not continue
because there are so many peculiar things in the world.
why is that we have so much figured out about ourselves,
how we can analyze our anatomy down to the last molecule,
but we don't really know much about anything at all?
I am just a young poet, lost in this world
without any purpose but to question my existence.
and quite frankly, many people have ideas about the purpose of life,
but no one is really sure which one is right.
I know my purpose, I think. But do you know yours? Do we know ours?
I don't know, I just don't know! What is life but to sit at your computer,
slaving away, dreaming up your reality when it could be sitting right in front of you?
What is life but to ponder, to try to comprehend? No one has the answers, no one knows the facts!
We can only guess, we can only use the word of mouth, and is that good enough for some?
We believe, we dream, we take no action. What do we do now? We are utterly trapped
in a tiny sphere of existence, with no way to know for sure what lies beyond.
I believe what I believe to be true, and I believe it to be honest and good.
I exist separately from the world, as do you. As does everyone.
We can become firefighters or doctors or carpenters, thinking this, surely this, is the purpose of my life.
Is it, though? I can't even begin to muster the courage to do much of anything,
and perhaps we as humans are meant to simply...live. Maybe we were never meant
to wonder about the paranormal, to doubt our very existence, but of course we do anyway.
Maybe we tend to overthink a bit, when all He wanted us to do was live.
more poetry on my other account freefall_
we were handed
a sheet of paper
and told to protect it
but do with it what we pleased.
some of us worked feverishly
but the others had plans
of their own.
they said, "Cast it to the ground,
and let us trod upon it."
"No", said the others,
"Let us perfect it,
let us shape it to our desires
and change the things
we do not like".
And much did they quarrel,
ripping of bits and pieces
trying to create
what they thought was
best for themselves.
and oh, did they quarrel
until the once perfect sheet
had been maimed and mangled
and ripped apart by its caretakers.
who thought, once upon a time,
that that perfect sheet of paper
was simply not enough.
Do I
love you?
{ Do I hate you? I
can't make up my
mind ♥}
So let's free fall
And see where we land.
♥ «
NMF
this is the age
of questions.
I have not yet arrived
at the time when I
discover what I felt
when I spilled those words
onto the paper.
is it really what
I think it is?
I just want to bury myself
in music and poetry
and never come out.
but that's not
the way it works.
life is not easy
and I am just beginning
to understand it.
of questions.
I have not yet arrived
at the time when I
discover what I felt
when I spilled those words
onto the paper.
is it really what
I think it is?
I just want to bury myself
in music and poetry
and never come out.
but that's not
the way it works.
life is not easy
and I am just beginning
to understand it.
