Questions without Answers

Sometimes we start in the middle to find the lost path; sometimes doubling back is a better option to place our feet in the right direction; and, sometimes, the lucky ones know the path from the beginning.

You hear: I knew what I was going to do when I was five or ten or14. Some never know for sure and search looking under rocks and walking down twisted alleys, for naught.

Perhaps the curious, the ones society calls ADD or ADHD, cannot be still, cannot sit and do as told but must search the room for something, anything to cure the boredom, to halt the restless soul, to calm the chattering brain.

Perhaps the creative must create or live only a half life. What if you were told you could not sing, nor dance or twirl about in the sheer joy of living?What if you could not write to tell your stories?

What if all the cameras were broken? Could you describe the scene so that all could “see”?

What if the entire small town zigged as you were zagging? What then?

What if the grass is blue and the sky is green? Man made up the colors so do we really know for sure?

Is questioning the way to live?

In this world where truth, honesty, integrity reigned as the supreme moral code; questions now are necessary for the truth may be lost in twisted alleys, under rocks or hidden lists in dark file cabinets, or is there only our truths and impossible to know any other?