Thinking..... questioning..... pondering....





What is the meaning of life?

My thoughts infect my mind, 
Like a plague, eating away at my mind. 
I sabotage myself, a prisoner in my soul 
My heart burns, longs to be free. 
Why do I fall? 
Why does it hurt? 
This I do not know. 
So many questions I will never understand. 
But how do I move on? 
How do I wade through the debre? 
Every step I take, I falter 
Question my own self 
My heart aches, yearns to be heard. 
I am swallowed up by my own thoughts. 

I was thinking tonight, about a lot of things. I usually do. It’s almost impossible to get my head to shut up.

I was trying to figure out why? Why am I in this mess. Why did this happen to me?  Why can’t I ‘snap out of it’? Why does it feel like no one understands? Why do I get hurt? 
As if this wasn’t mentally draining enough, I was also trying to figure out who? what? how? etc. 
So many muddles thoughts, and to be honest, I don’t think any of my questions were answered or explained, and in a way, barely made sense.

But that didn’t stop me. I then lay in bed wondering why I couldn’t figure it all out? Is it actually bad for me to be thinking so much? What would happen if I became quiet?
How to somehow stop the overloading thinking? What is the point?
..... and it goes on.

The problem is, most of my questions I don’t have an answer. Never will. 
There are questions I battle with that nobody knows the answer to. 

So how can I feel secure in not knowing, in not understanding? 

Again, I don’t really know the answer to this. 

One thing I do know. 
There are always going to be questions.
There are always going to be times I don’t understand.

But spending every moment of my life deep in the depths of this loud oppressive clatter of questions, is only going to make everything harder.

I will probably never know most of what troubles me. And somehow, I have to realize that’s ok. 

There is nothing wrong with pondering the meaning of life. It is good to stand back and be aware. 
Thinking is ok, overthinking is damaging.

The simple truth is this: 

The more time I spend trying to figure out what life is, the less time I spend living it. 

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