Thoughts

What do I believe in?
That's a good question...
What do I believe in? What do I want to do? How will I get there?
What will my philosophy be?

I struggle to answer these questions.

I live in a world that is neither black nor white and I know it in my core...
That makes things less simple for me.
I cannot be as decisive as others because I know that there are always valid exceptions.
How can I ever get anything done like this?
How can I analyze the facts, make a logical conclusion, and move on from there?

It seems like I can never do that.

I believe in too many possibilities. And I can give credence to all of them.

I am logical yet whimsical.

I want truth and facts, but can easily disprove them with a valid "why not."
It makes me crazy sometimes...

How can I, how will I ever find/discover/come to accept any secrets of the universe?

Why is humanity, myself, not content with just existence?
Day in and day out existence...
What is our function?

Really?

Will we ever have proof?
Will we agree upon that proof?


          I look at water.
          I do not see just water.
          I see possibility.
          I don't understand the man who looks at the water
               and only sees one thing.
          He is not human.
          He is an animal.
          Sometimes I do not fault him for this.
          Sometimes I do.


How can I complete one coherent thought?
           A perfect thought by itself;
                     gleaming like a star in the night sky.

                              And... if I do.

                                        How can I not look at it and say,

                                                  "what is that?"

          I see the sun.
          I can find out what the sun does,
          but I cannot fully understand everything about the sun.
          I can measure the sun in a variety of ways;
          make proclamations about it.

          They may even be true.

          But man is not honest with himself
                    if he believes
                              that he can look at the sun
                                        and not say,

                              "what is that?"

          I want to run though the land.
And then, go back though and walk it slowly, carefully.
          I want to make love to it.
Take it in my hands and caress it;
          learn its secrets.
Drink its joy; its hardship.
          I want to know it.

                              How can I know a place?
                              How can I be a part?
                              Do I not know how?
                              Do I not know how to?