Too many questions!

To be or not to be? Now that's a question. Or so wrote Shakespeare.Some question!

To be mad, or to not be mad? Now that's another question. 

To say, or not to say? Then if to say, then what to say? Or if to not say, then how to contain your silence? This ain't the first time that the comfort of silence has proven itself more inconvenient than the unease of thinking out loud.

Now, there's another dilemma that confronts me. 

To think or not to think? If to think, then how much to think? Well, if not to think, how much not to think? But to think is to be, says Descartes. So there you have a circular argument. Basically, the whole problem of whether to be, or not to be shall resolve itself the moment one decides whether or not to think! Wow! Did Descartes and Shakespeare know each other? They've lived within 25-30 years of each other's time. Crap! Who knew that their dilemmas would be solved by. or at least connected by a complete nincompoop about four centuries after these two minds left the planet. One second! Was there a problem to solve in the first place? Or was it the French stringing together a fancy looking sentence that basically meant...well, not a lot, to be honest?

It obviously started with Englishmen,trying to pose their imperial questions onto the world, and then completely forgetting about their own question.

 

Here's another question. To start or not to start? If to start, when to start? More importantly, when to stop? Do you let yourself be taken away by your thoughts?

Really! Shame on the person who, despite living on this planet, doesn't know how to enjoy the beauty this place has to offer.

To go, or to not go? If to go, how far to go? How do you know you went all the way you were supposed to? And how far is too far? Or is it just thoughts fiddling with all the gray mater?

There's more trouble up ahead!

To hold back, or to let go? If to hold back, how much to hold back? Enough to keep the world at bay? Or do you let the world in, one bi at a time? In small parts? Then again, when it comes to letting go, the word on the street would be to let go completely. Then the question is, if you've let go, the what do you have left remaining with you? Or is it that we all came empty handed, shall stay that, way, and leave all the same? Or do you have something  that you can call absolutely unequivocally yours? That's actually a foolish question, I realize. If someone were to take my laptop and run away, I can already imagine myself running after the chap, blood thirsty, knife in hand and all. 

But then, why did I not run that way, when the creation in my embrace was taken away?

Sometime ago, my future self came to me and said, "Kiddo, you just got soft too fast. Stop being a bum! Not a problem if you're the arsehole you are. That shall help you filter the friends you want to keep, and the friends who are friends for namesake. But don't go soft. And another thing. Blue roses are found in the Himalayas, on the other side of the range. It's a bloody pain to get there. But for what it's worth, the trip, all by itself is liberating. Mind you. You won't be able to smell the flower. Your nose will be far too sore to smell anything. But the trip will be worth it."