Thoughts of a Sunday Night

          Sometimes I just want to lay in my bed and cry for no reason, but I know that there is one, I just don't want to say it out loud. But this usually happens when I'm really sad, and some other times i want to cry just to cry. Recently I have felt like crying, but it's one of those times that I know why. Sometimes, memories of the past revive themselves and give life to all the feelings of the time. You remember how foolish you were and how you could have changed everything just with a few words and don't know if it was better for it to have happened as it did. You suddenly remember the faces and names of lovers who could have been but weren't or that were but didn't last long enough to be anything more than a fling.
I once had someone say to me that they wondered if they wondered too much and I asked why realizing that they said it just to say and loved that they said it even though it had no relevance to our conversation. I love it when people do the expected and love it even more when they do the unexpected someone else said to me and I loved this one more than the first for they understood me when I spoke and ranted about insignificant things and I fell in love with their ways, but all good things must end, he said, and I know they all do, but this one I don't want it to even though I know it will I might be more relieved that it will than it won't. So I say, relish the time that is given to you because it ends with every passing breath and is revived by the same spark of life that happened billions of years ago with the creation of this universe that we are more interested in finding out about than discovering who we are on the inside. But that is what humanity does, isn't it? More interested in things that they have nothing to do with and know very little about to feed their own curious minds and continue on with the search of the insignificant to give meaning to their boring lives. But isn't the boring what is interesting? I think it is. You see who someone is in that moment but that's also when they are out in the open confronted by situations they don't know how to deal with. And what is beautiful about it all is that we are all significant even though we don't believe it and we are and will be who we are and that is magnificent!
         I created myself through decisions that I will be the sole judge of my own actions unless there is any higher being who knows all and is omnipotent. But still then I will repute my decisions bad or good for I know why I did so according to the circumstances given to me. I have a thirst for life and knowledge that is fueled by books and flesh and will be so for as long as I wish it. Love and lust are two separate things but are both driven by the mortal souls need for the same thing. We live our lives in agonizing regret wishings to have happened differently,living in the unknown, and so I refute to live in this situation for everything I do happens only to teach me more about myself and those around me. I have an insatiable need to give and receive love and I love to love more than anything else because without love we are nothing more than a spec in the greatness in this world we call earth. What is life without love, in all her great forms? It is nothing more than a black writing on a blank sheet of paper, with maybe a few smudges of gray from the broken printer. What would one want more than know that they are loved and can love back if they wished? Nothing if they ever knew that feeling.
         I have trouble dealing with love sometimes, because I don't know where it will go and I hate knowing that which I don't know even more than hate even though hate deserves to be hated, but I find pity a better form of punishment. But the unknown is fascinating and keeps the wheels of curiosity steady on the road speeding so fast to seem in need of DUI. Sometimes I don't know why I am scared of it, maybe I know what is going to happen but don't want it to or want it to but am too afraid of changing who I am. But isn't love changing who you are for someone who wants you to change but loves you too much to actually want you to change? I don't know. I want to change but I don't want to, I want people to change, but I don't want them to. Yet everything overlaps each other on this finely built web of lives that are bound to cross and cross over and over again till they reach the end of the line. And so what? What is the point to all of it if we all will die? We are going to die! Someday we will cease to exist and people will forget who we were and what we did and for what? What are we gaining from this? Ah, but that is the question everyone has going on in their head as if it were on a loop, what am I getting out of this? Selfish human beings that we are, always wanting more than we have and never satisfied with what we do have and for what in the end? To have it all just be thrown away once we are done. Few people's names continue to be spoken in conversation even after centuries if not millenniums after having drawn their last breath. But out of the trillions of people who have lived, done something in their lives, how many of those names are written in history books? How many of them have traces still left behind? How many of them have not shared their experience with us privileged human beings?