Have you ever asked yourself why?
Moreover, questioned everything you come in contact with. How do you really know if blue is really blue.
What if my hurt is not really pain? What if I am not truly in reality? It is all a delusion or a long nightmare
Am I awake? Am I human? Is anyone human? What is human anyway? Do I want to be that?
Why does the light hurt more than the darkness sometimes? Maybe my light is darkness and my darkness light.
Why do people need love? Why does my skin hurt when people touch me?
How come a circles round and why are so many things made of circles?
Why is my keyboard not alphabetized? Can “shatterproof” glasses break?
Why are hearts people draw not anatomically correct? What does my heart look like?
Why is anything real? Why should I want real?
Who made up the word “should” or “suppose”? What were their lives like? Did they do everything they should and supposed to?
When can I make up my own words, how many degrees do I need to attain? I want to meet Webster; I read his dictionary a lot. Did he actually write it? Do people get paid when they add new words?
Why are there more questions than answers?