The question that was, had nothing to do with life or living, it had nothing whatsoever to do with any of my thoughts, then or now. It was just the intonation of the expression that bore into my mind, and I slid unconsciously into running along parallel subliminal interpretations of semi redundant colorations of my own mind as a result.
Don’t ask me what the question was for it matters not at all. The thing that really does matter though is the effect that it had on my mind. Both then and what it has on my mind now. As a kid perhaps, I would’nt have realized what it meant and might have even asked someone the very same question, and quite obviously, no one would ever give me a decent answer.
The kid just stood there, waiting for my response while I reflected in fast forward, thinking in a serious case of mental-blur. I was glazed over and lost in a misty encapsulation of time-travel. Space and time wrapped itself around me, warping at the edges, the moment lasted longer in my mind that in real actual fact, I came to lightly, the rain beginning to draw dark lines over my high-ankle boots. And I looked down at the still waiting kid.
I felt the muscles in my face distort and I smiled. I actually smiled at the kid, perhaps for the first time ever, since I was myself a kid, as a matter of a fact, weird! I kneeled down on one leg and held an elbow on my knee and considered briefly before saying anything to the kid….
“Life is something I cannot begin to describe to you young lady. It’s meant a lot to me, and shall continue to mean a lot every day that passes me by. I know I’ll keep wondering about the meaning of life until I’m dead, and most likely, I’ll still not know. People live their entire lives asking the same question you just asked me, and so far, no one has been able to decide on a decent answer that satisfies us all.”
“Why?” she asks me, questions forming in her mind and showing up all over her face….
“Life is a huge thing. If I tell you what I think about life, I could go on forever. I’m only 17 years old today, and I’ve got so much to say. When I was 14, I had a lot to say too…. As I grow older, my ideas will become bigger and they will take longer to explain…. You’ll learn too as you grow up, and I’m certain that your answers shall surely be different from mine.”
“Why should it be different? Every question should have the same answer, my teacher said so!”
“Every question that is based on static fact will have the same answer every time.” I notice a non-comprehending look and continue accordingly. “Static is when the conditions don’t change. Life is a question that has no specific answer because your life is different from mine…. My life has different people in it, I have different friends and relatives, I see different things, there’s too much difference between us and coming to the same answer would be too difficult.”
We spoke for quite a while, but never reached a conclusion. One question after another, we went on for ages…. It’s strange how children find it so easy to ask questions…. I myself would love to ask questions, but I keep myself from going too far. I sometimes wish I was a kid, I really do, but I know that is totally impossible….
Of late, I’ve been on a binding spell, I’ve been tracking my thoughts down. It’s hard to explain in simple language what I mean when I say that, but that’s basically what it is. I simply reflect on my thoughts. There are so many of them, but once I get a grip on a particular thought, I follow its direction and try to tack it down. One thought tacked down, I move on along logical propagation and try to locate and tack down every following thought.
It’s like a detective story, and looks rather like spring-cleaning in a way. I am basically re-organizing my thoughts in my brain, trying to straighten out the complexities and generate a kind of a direct understanding of things. Once done, I’ll never have to wonder about the same thing again, except of course, to associate newer thoughts and to create more connections to pre-thought out stuff.
I’ll never be done with this I’m sure, but nothing stops me, so I go on…. Life is too short for the things we dream up. If it were longer, say about four or five fold longer, the complexities and the amount of data would increase proportionately and we’d still be getting nowhere. Does that mean life is just a big fat question mark? Maybe it is. And maybe we’re just living our lives with no ultimate end in sight, not even in programming. As a matter of fact, It should’nt really make a difference since we would’nt be around, neither us, nor our descendants would ever see it. We’re just enlarging the fish bowl with every step we take, and prolonging it with every life we make….
Sarcastic maybe, but it makes as well as disqualifies true sense…. It’s a stupid thing, but it’s something that’s existent. Is’nt everything?