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I will listen to the same music, or at least music with the same subject matter. I will stare at the same sky and feel these same emotions, of hope flooded in by deep, heavy sadness, confusion, a touch of madness and maybe a little rage, if I'm lucky. I will search again for those right words and on returning home will write yet another poem. And yet again I will miss the point, this target on my soul that I will hit to go "Aha! I finally got it", and be able to carry on with the rest of existence and being, with this search behind me. But the search continues, seeming never ending. And as I carry on, the questions just seem to get bigger and bigger, the gaps getting wider and wider. Will I solve this before my time runs out? Will all this worrying and circling be for nought? Will I *ever* come to grasp or understand this body, this mind, this place I seem to float through? Is this home, a hotel, or something else completely? What is *everything*.
That's a mighty big question to ask. No wonder I keep pacing around it in all the ways I do. I keep getting my mind focused on these things even geniuses have gone insane for. How do I make myself accept the unanswerable ?Now that is a better question.