Discovered this bit by chance from my comp. Something that I wrote some years ago; I do remember I was dry-eyed, tired, yet somehow positive when I wrote this late one night.
In all our ceaseless striving to be, is there a road somewhere hidden by the deep wild bushes that we completely miss? A road that might show us why one has to be born and why one has to think; why some people need to be perceived beautiful and why some others can be plain and still carry on; why it is necessary to feel important and why it is that we run races with everyone we meet. All the questions lost and discovered might have been answered if we had just looked for that road. But who is to say that questions need answers? What if the questions are not questions but answers themselves? Answers that have been wrapped in the riddle of the why.
It is an interesting proposition, to encounter an earlier self compacted into a paragraph...
That's some good news. How skillfull of you as a writer that despite of being tired and dry eyed you were able to make such a very interesting output.
Posted by
tin236 |
10:49 AM, August 23, 2006