I still remember when it started
How do we fall asleep?
Unanswered, it kept me awake
Am I a series of reactions?
A constant domino effect from the big bang
Nothing lost
Nothing gained
Everything changes
Or have I been perverting my essence since birth
With every action I regret?
Is true self a labyrinthine course towards my metaphoric heart
Or rather the whole of my destiny's design?
Or is the whole of myself a quest to balance these states?
Therefore, I'd be a quandary
A state of perplexity or doubt
But did an enigma lay dormant until unearthed
Or did the question create the state?
Crudely said: Is it my fault?
If the answer is that there is no answer
And the question will not die, what then?
How do they pa** through life with (or without) these questions?
If it would, at least, block my reasoning at myself
For if I do not understand my mind
What is it worth trying to figure out the world?
Why do I still try?
And finally, I question the very basis of the crisis
Is this a lucid state?
And what if it's all genetic?...
Depression pa**ed down, wires shorted out
Predisposed to think?
Predisposed to be sick?
Seems like this is the deepest it goes...
My own body, which I cannot trust
So no reasoning possible
I'm forever blocked at my first step...
And sometimes I'd rather stumble like the blind
The final level of questioning
Self-doubt leads to nihilism
No knowledge will ever be gained
But with silence comes questions
Unanswered, they keep me awake...