much a do about nothing

.

You ask me why I’m vague. My answer is I don’t know. I know too little about anything to offer a satisfactory explanation, even if it were about myself.

How do you have an opinion when you don’t know what to think anymore?

This is a society of ‘whatever’; anything goes and everything hangs loose. How do you construct an argument (mostly for argument’s sake) from loose material and expect it to support itself. It may be possible but I do not have the courage to witness a very probable collapse for a very slim possibility of otherwise. You can call me a coward for lacking such courage, but at least give me some credit for being honest about it.

The little knowledge and life experience of my so-called life seem insufficient in extending my theorising capacity as I toy with my thoughts with hope of expanding them. So far without fail I confuse myself everytime I try to think things through. There has been not once when I succeeded in convincing myself about something. Limbo is where I end up almost always; never close enough to heaven to bask in its glory nor distant enough from hell to be safe against the scorching heat of its inferno. Somewhere in limbo and aware of the extremes, I have started to wonder why I bother at all for I have doubts about moving in any direction.

What good are directions when destinations are unknown? Why choose a destination when it will not matter in the end? If you are not going to get up and do what it is that you think about doing, then perhaps it’s better to not think about it at all. Again, perhaps I’ve fallen into another confusion of mine.

So please, don’t ask me questions that I cannot answer. You would save both you and me a great deal of time. And what would I do with the saved time? Nothing. I’d just idle it away in my solitude. At least, that is pure. There is purity in idleness so long it is unpolluted by discontent consideration of what could have been done and what could be done.

Some give such idleness a fancy name, they call it meditation. To me, it is just idleness, uncluttered by thoughts if possible.

It’s not even peace, it is just idleness as is.
.

more and all

.

when you bury your heart in the past
you tend to feel less of the present
if at all

for some reason you feel responsible for a self
that seems less than whole
you get on your feet to find find out more

when you start digging for what you left behind
you tend to find not just a skeleton or two
but a whole lot more

now looking at all the extra work you’ve uncovered
you realise moving forward is more than a chore

you wish you had been lazy to the core
so you’d never have to deal with it all
.

be frank

.

if you’re not intending on helping all the way, then don’t pretend to be an all-promising caring soul.
.

doubting time

.

they say time changes everything,
and i used to doubt that.

i thought i could stand still,
unwavering against the tide of years gone by,
humming the same tune,
dreaming of a rainbow that won’t fade, and
hoping for a storyline that never ends.

time tells of a different kind of story:
a kind of stories that end to begin other stories;
a different kind of never-ending.

time deals in multitude,
knowing‘one’ is hard to let go of,
but ‘many’ can be hard to keep track of.

time does change everything
because it knows you can’t possibly remember it all,
and it never hesitates in giving you more to recall
if you think you could out-run its claws.
.

one snap

.

one tiny piece of thread snapped in my head
a minor explosion within

an implosion of such weight
leaving no debris
but a black hole

further exploration seems futile
as it sheds no light

needless to say
it sucks
whatever gravitates towards where it lays

my head
my universe
my vacuum
my vagueness
.