Friday, August 30, 2013
She sat there blankly staring into space wondering what the sky was made of, she was wondering what she was made of. Who are these people, why are they here? Sometimes she thought to herself, does she really want answers? She realised What she wants is a really good question. One that would for years on end make her feel alive. She reads to find questions. It was her obsession. She got tangled in questions and she found her bliss there. She knows an answer is a definitive end and she knows she isn't prepared. It's the finality of things that's most scary. The end is what she is scared of.