We know it... THE Answers are out there.
Oh how we want them, so we search.
We move, we ask, we follow, we find - oh wait, that's not it - ... we buy, we fight, we protest, we buy some more, we drink, we sleep, we work, we buy, we sleep, we work, we buy, we work,....
Until we forget.
What was the question again?
Eh, does it matter?
This is just how life is.
This is reality.
But the anxiety continue. The unease. The questioning that nags us in the rare moments we find silence...there was something.
(*I remember....I want to remember.)
So we question again and start the search for the answers. Again and again.
But for all of this searching - through all of the working and creating and art and tweeting and commenting and "liking" and gossiping and mindfulness and mindlessness and relationships and births and deaths and cleaning and e-books and classes and knowing -
we find no permanent answers.
And so, we are discontent.
I do not think we need to stop questioning.
I think we need to stop answering.