?
The question. Mark-ed. How often it is employed. How easily it can be overlooked.
When certain, it springs up to unsteady perhaps to ultimately re-steady.
When uncertain, it is inherently present in all things, out of nowhere, it rears its curvy back, its period . , perhaps to reassure that there is, somewhere, an end and. with it, a new beginning.
Ends. Means. Meanings.
To question can be deeply 'dangerous'.
To ask the right questions only to be fearfully face-d by empty pages. Knowing that the answers must be filled in by none other than he who posed the problem of...I can't stay silent, salient without wondering...
Why? When? What? The hell?
Where am, are, does this, that, and the other...
To stop the senseless circles of huh?
That one puts oneself through.
If ever. One were to stop and listen to...speak to...encourage the discourse of
honesty with the 2-sided, one minded
Source.
seemingly vague. simply plain enough to - no, you cannot touch . it .
Which makes me hope that if ever, whenever one has chosen a path, a direction, a stable and steady notion, they can ask themselves...Is this...it? Right?
There are two worlds we may simultaneously lead. I'm pretty sure that's what someone once or twice told me. The world of 'must' for the need of physical - cannot-go-bust.
The other of this-is-my-happy-place-other. At night we all give in.
Dreamscapes painted by a need to remind the left mind of its inner right to escape, while remaining rooted in, the 3-d place of...
Danger. Dangerous minds conjuring up plans of schemes to eventually free what does not exist.
To be or not to be.
IS THAT THE QUESTION?
The question. Mark-ed. How often it is employed. How easily it can be overlooked.
When certain, it springs up to unsteady perhaps to ultimately re-steady.
When uncertain, it is inherently present in all things, out of nowhere, it rears its curvy back, its period . , perhaps to reassure that there is, somewhere, an end and. with it, a new beginning.
Ends. Means. Meanings.
To question can be deeply 'dangerous'.
To ask the right questions only to be fearfully face-d by empty pages. Knowing that the answers must be filled in by none other than he who posed the problem of...I can't stay silent, salient without wondering...
Why? When? What? The hell?
Where am, are, does this, that, and the other...
To stop the senseless circles of huh?
That one puts oneself through.
If ever. One were to stop and listen to...speak to...encourage the discourse of
honesty with the 2-sided, one minded
Source.
seemingly vague. simply plain enough to - no, you cannot touch . it .
Which makes me hope that if ever, whenever one has chosen a path, a direction, a stable and steady notion, they can ask themselves...Is this...it? Right?
There are two worlds we may simultaneously lead. I'm pretty sure that's what someone once or twice told me. The world of 'must' for the need of physical - cannot-go-bust.
The other of this-is-my-happy-place-other. At night we all give in.
Dreamscapes painted by a need to remind the left mind of its inner right to escape, while remaining rooted in, the 3-d place of...
Danger. Dangerous minds conjuring up plans of schemes to eventually free what does not exist.
To be or not to be.
IS THAT THE QUESTION?
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