Questions

Questions keep running through my head. You get away to have them answered, but only to find that you have searched so deep inside yourself that you have new ones. The written question mark hanging above your head. You walk around wondering if everyone sees the same things you see when you look in the mirror. If they see the uncertainty of a future. The doubting of which way to turn. Should you live your life with no regrets and risk having your heart broken? Or live with the paranoia of every step you take? John Steinbeck once wrote; 'It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try so to live that our death brings no pleasure on the world.' I guess he could be right. Live life. No questions asked.