there are some things in life that remain an unsolveable mystery to me.

there are strange things, small things, unimportant things, heartbreaking things, forgetful things, senseless things, and things that should really be forgotten [but alas they remain not]. and then sometimes i tell myself, that like in the pursuit of knowledge, if i persist and toil on further, maintain and inquisitive mind, and attentive senses, perhaps one day in the near future i might be just a little closer to the absolute truth and beauty that awaits me.

but still these things remain unsolveable to me.

and then sometimes, in the quiet moments in between hours, or the lonely voids between space and dark nights, i question. could it be that some things just have no answer? or perhaps that the answer doesn't will itself to be revealed? or perhaps i am not the right one it would reveal itself to? and perhaps a dozen other probabilities and possibilities, because these things, really, i have no answer to.

it's not that these things are so crucial to me;

not that if i didn't know the answer i would die trying to find out,

not that i have a burning sensation overwhelming me whole, not that these are a matter of life and death, but

sometimes these voids i cannot fill.

and nobody,

nothing,

can fill that void.

except maybe the answer.

but,

maybe,

there really is no answer.

[or that it remains unwilling to reveal itself to me]

and maybe,

i should stop questioning, altogether.