Flummox, v.:

TITLE: Questions to your Answers
By: Sebastien Angelo
--
How would you make the unworkable work?

How far would you go to solve the unsolvable puzzle in you?

How much more would you take and how long would you lurk?

How hard would you suffer to keep the cracks little and few?

How high should the walls have to be

To hide you and your misery?

And how would you run right back to the start

When everything around is falling apart?

How good do you have to be

To be good or even just good enough?

How keen should everybody be

To see the real sadness behind your bluff?

How loud should your silence have to be

And how quiet would you cry and scream

To make them hear your rueful plea,

To make them listen to the sound of grim?

How naive should your mind be

To not recognize the agony of living?

And how smart would you need to be

To foresee and dodge the tragedy of loving?

How pathetic would you let yourself be

To tolerate the hurt hiding in ecstasy?

And how monstrous would you want to become

To appear tough and strong that nothing could bring you down?

How many tears should your eyes shed?

How much blood would you have to bleed?

How many smiles could you keep on faking?

And how many lies would save you from breaking?

How much hate do you need to fray

Just to make your insides feel okay?

How much ache has ripped you far apart,

And how much love do you need to fix your dying heart?

How sorry should the universe be

To make you stop pushing everyone away?

How sorry should your soul have to be

To let you take a break from falling endlessly?

How many questions would you want to ask,

And how many questions would you leave unanswered?

How many questions you would rather not ask,

And how many questions would give you the answer?

Reflect, v.:

Do you ever feel like you're wasting time thinking so hard about something you can't even remember? Or just thinking about something you're not really sure of? Well, hello there! Welcome to the company. We should bond sometimes and have a seat in a coffee shop and think in peace. And just to let you know, I'm dead serious. Anyway, thinking is something we do every single day. Without it, we wouldn’t survive a dreadful day in this frightening world. But in this case, remembering—or should I say reminiscing someone or something beyond the capacity of our tiny fragile minds, is there anything else to do than to keep giving our heads a painful crack?

Most of our memories lie in the darkest road of our past. And some of them are those we want to forget. But no matter how deep we bury them, they could still haunt us in silence. For example, you are lying on the comfort of your bed when suddenly a few snapshots strike your mind. It is fast as lightning. And then the next thing you’d know is you're bugged and couldn't do anything except to think about the miseries that came out of nowhere. And it would stay in you from day to night—and even all night. There’s this uncanny feeling that you want to forget it, but at the same time you crave to remember it and to keep thinking about it, unraveling every detail and hoping you could have it back and change some parts of it. That’s what I’m in right now. These memories are flying like butterflies in my head all over again. I’m trying so hard to wave them away, but my brain acid seems to taste like nectar. They wouldn’t leave it alone. They are all here to keep me up for the rest of the night. And the only escape available is for me to jump on my own patiently waiting grave. I’m scared. This isn’t the memory lane I plan to go down, especially tonight.

Think. Think. Think. It's not bad to think. But to think too much is kind of weird, isn't it? Especially when we start to skip our lives. One book I've read said, "Sometimes people use thoughts to not participate in life." And if we want to drown our minds in a pool of puzzle pieces, it's fine as long as we make sure that we still participate. It's hard to live in a life full of decoding-thoughts-from-the-past stuff. We need to put our minds ahead of the road, and to not let our past define us as well. We must define our future, and cage our minds in freedom from the tentacles of the memories from the past. But what if no matter how hard and fast we run away from these dreadful thoughts, they still could chase us, what would we do? Again, is there anything else to do than to keep our heads a painful crack?