Bookmark #726

All life is a crossroads. From the moment you gain agency over your feet, you must choose to go one way or the other, and like all dichotomies, one will be easier and the other not so much.

You can either take the answers you are given, as immutable as the tone suggests they are, and you can live your entire life the easy way. Or you can do the harder thing and ask the questions and hope you land on an answer. Whether it is the same answers as the others is up to the question, and the dice of fate. But when you find them, they will be your answers no one bothered to find, and there will be many questions and, in time, many answers. If you have a good head upon those shoulders, I can sense the squint of suspicion. Why is this the hard way? Now, that, I believe, is a question.

It took me a while to ask if I am being utterly square with you. It was not until a few months ago that I even had a mild suspicion. Then, I asked it. And surely, right there was my answer, waiting for me: it rarely is about the answer or the question; it is about what you will do with it once it is asked. People, us, we band around our answers.

Who is your God? Is there one? What do you believe in, or do you not believe in anything? Do you play the games society wants you to play? Or do you sit out? How do you like your coffee? What about your tea? What do you think we are here to do? Or is it pointless? Will you take the answers given to you or ask the questions repeatedly until you find your own? It has merit: there may be the right way if there ever was one, and you will have found it. But then, you may be the only one who knows this and the only one you will remain, for no one will ever ask.

The more answers you find by yourself, the less in common you will have with the others, and the further you will get from them.

Where does it end, then? I wish I could tell you, but I’m only on the way. I will ask the question, of course, when I get to it. I will have an answer for you. But, if you’ve been paying attention, I hope you ask it, too. For a change, perhaps, I wish you find the same one, that we meet, you and I. I reckon I am tired of disagreeing with the very fabric of the world.

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