Only Questions

I sit and ponder my journals for hours. Trying to make sense of the senseless questioning. That is what I do. I question. I question and turn the words into poetry (if I’m lucky), sometimes an essay (if it makes sense),and sometimes nothing at all (commonly). Simply words.

 Tonight is different. My journal is making me confused. I sit here unable to focus. There is a sense of sadness, melancholia, for nothing more than waiting. Waiting for the answers to the questions.  And then the thought emerges, “perhaps my answers are answered”. Did I think out loud? I suppose I did. 

Perhaps my answers are answered, I am simply unaware of the truth, or the answers to my queries. It seems I drift to a place in my mind where the line is blurred between reality and imagination. This place we all know… it is the place from which our dreams come and then go… We watch the dreams pass by, forgetting before the meaning has a chance to resonate. 

The answers are there… 


The shadow of awareness divided…


“why do I love?”

“why do I hate?” 

“what is the meaning of all which comes my way?”

“what is the reason to my questioning?”

“why be awake to a life with little to no meaning?”

Why indeed… 

What good comes from questioning? Existence. For what have you if not the questions? It is indeed fun, the thoughts which arise are important. They cause so much in the way of life, yet they leave you wanting, waiting, for a glimpse behind the shadow of awareness.


I have always been a believer, “a knower”. I know what I know… it has been a journey through and through. Be it God. Be it faith. Be it Life, Reason, Truth. It is my truth. It is… and I know.  I know the purpose is to question. Ask and keep asking…and then there are times when I stop, I stop and think and question some more…


“why are there only questions?”


This time spent questioning has filled my mind with memories. I remember the first time I thought about God. I remember when I was aware of life and death. I remember thinking about my Soul. My life. My philosophies. As all these things began to formulate into my beliefs… into who I am. I remember. I am happy to remember. To be able to think and question with no answers. To believe in who I am and all the crazy things I believe are real… I am happy. 


“why are there only questions?”

That’s why 🙂