I hear the trickling of

I hear the trickling of the pond outside my bedroom window;

the fish living in that pond feed the plants, that feed me.

Staring... my reflection shows bloodshot eyes and a red face looking back.

I start to think.

I think of all the errands I have yet to complete.

I materialize a list of grocceries in my head.

Remembering all the things I'm "supposed to" or "obligated" to finish;

I reflect on my old hobbies and activities I've been longing to get back to when I get free time.

Anxiously running through colleges in my head,

the mountain of applications and paperwork to complete continuing to pile up.

The lonliness I feel at times like these creeps on me.

I ask myself:

What am I doing?

Is it really supposed to be this way?

What should I do?

Where do I go from here?

Am I happy?

Such difficult questions,

and people say the only person who can answer them is myself.

I think that's a lot for 1 brain to handle.

With such difficult questions I can't help but wonder,

does any one person really know the answers?

Especially those at my youthful age?

Should I know the answers?

Are any of us supposed to know the answers?

Maybe is this what life is about?

Finding the answers to these questions;

the answers to some of these questions changing continually throughout one's life.

Whether it take 1 year, or 50 years to find an answer.

Do we possibly never trully discover the answers to some of the questions

we humans feel it is in our nature to ask?

Even as we meet the unavoidable, inescapable, "passage" or "end", (whichever you may prefer),

the inevitable thing we call death.

Some terrified of this ever approaching event,

some even more terrified of not having their questions answered,

not having the unknown known,

the great problems and metaphors of the universe figured out.

Why is it that humans ask so many questions? 

We question all things throughout our existence;

curious about creation, and puzzled about death.

Humans have been and are forever on a quest for answers;

a quest for truth as some may call it.

I should be the first to say a revolutionary "Fuck It!"

Shake myself out of this way of thinking.

I refuse to be thirsty for answers on some quest to find the meaning.

What if there is no meaning to anything...no meaning at all.

I very well might be as insignificant to the universe,

as a little yellow leaf blowing in the wind, is to a human.

If the only impact that little yellow leaf makes in the grand scheme of things,

is to land in the pond outside my window;

well then whether short or long at least it'll have enjoyed

the free ride.