Doubtful as it may appear.

As it would appear, we are all on this journey through life. This endless up hill battle, conquering woe, and fighting for a frivolous cause. Tear it down, Break it, touch the seams and rip them open. There's a constant turning over, a constant change, that leads you back to the same old things. Money, love, happiness. So many things we strive for, so little we gain. Knowledge? An unattainable about of information no one being could muster enough time or space to indulge themselves in for more then a blink of an eye. A great mind? Or a thirsty heart? Drink up the lacquered leaves of what once may have been beautiful. I forget how easy it is to lose ones self, when what is it but ones self that we have? If you lose yourself amonst all the sorrow and agony and happiness and cotton mouth of life, what are you left with? Tattered memories of what you could have amounted to? Silly question without answers. Always always a question, with the expectation of an answer, but never, never more then a fleeting word or two that never leaves you feeling any more satiated. Do we continue to drip drop through our days? Always staring backwards, trying to keep a stiff upper lip, trying to hold on to the last ounce of sanity that perhaps we managed to hang on to.  Hiding in the dark room of your own mind, waiting for the careless creature that would dare try to enter there, the poor lost soul who would try to bring light to that which should undoubtedly just be left dark. Save your tears for another star, should we believe that there is more? Should we delve into the secrets of sorrow, and unleash anguishes hurried wrath? For whatever the meaning, isn't an act much more satisfying then a thought? A thought, so meaningless and fleeting, hold on to it for a moment and its gone. Looking into the glass, you might see yourself, you might see a reflection of a being so lost by humanities does and don't, but you can't touch that reflection, you can't make it last for more then a moment, after that second has passed you've already changed, you've already evolved into a high plane of thinking, leaving behind you the simple thoughts of an under developed potential. One moment of clarity. no, would it not be better to close your eyes to clarity? To turn your back on all that is sane and right, to preserve those niceties and thoughtlessness of childhood? To remain forever, undamaged by age and time? Lets not think for one more second, let us not revel in memories. Keep your head held high little one, for one day you will have to fight sorrow and all her sisters. One day you will travel this road and seek wisdom, and perhaps find nothing but a blank page. Take up your pen. Write your story.  Don't leave your page blank for others to fill.