Inside

I cannot think today, I cannot focus.
My mind is filled with nothingness.
Not a single idea do I possess or can create.
I look upon the glass window where the raindrops fall with no purpose.
I fall with them.

You decide

What do people think when they listen to me? Are my thoughts not valuable, are they not credible? For, I am not of you or like you. I am of my own and although I may not be as deep into thought as you, I still feel. I still function in this world. Why does your mind cringe at the words I utter from my mouth? Are they vile, do they poison your mind? My words are not cancerous, so why do you treat them so? Why must you punish me with your words? Do not push me aside, but accept what I have to offer. Do you envy me? Is that why you treat me as if every thought I posses or create is obscured?Is my spirit too free and in touch with nature? Does my lack of knowledge madden you? When were you put upon a throne of enlightenment, when were you crowned the king of free thought? I am not a human just like you? Why do you force me to wear a mask, to hide my true identity from society and reduce it to nothingness? Does this arouse you or make you feel more human than I? Does it satisfy you sexually, does it quench your thirst or enrage you? I am not who you think I am. I am known only to myself and I do not have to explain my actions. For they are just and true and have no deeper desires. I live for the enjoyment of life, not for the torture of others.

What am I?

A rock is a rock and always will be a rock. But a rock does not know it is a rock. It exists and simply is.
I am a human. I live and exist, but I KNOW I am a human. But I don't know what is a human. I know what I am not, but I don't know what I am. I always change. I must create myself through my interactions with the world. I can define myself as anything I want. I create myself from nothing. I can be a doctor, a father, a philosopher, etc. But I know I am more than that. I can never define myself. Because of this consciousness, I will always be incomplete.

A quick thought

Happiness is an abstraction. Not a just a simple, shallow idea. There is a problem with trying to understand happiness. For people to understand it they have to first convert it into something they can comprehend something finite. Yet happiness is far from finite. Example) A man is happy because he has a good life. A man could be happier though if he has a better life. And a man could still be happier if he has an even better life. In this example I show there is a state where man can become happier and that means happiness cannot be finite. There is no ultimate level of happiness which one could reach and not go beyond it. With that laid out, how can we convert happiness into a finite idea and explain it? I don’t think we can, though we do try. I have a major problem with people trying to convert infinite abstractions into finite things. A few other examples are, God and love. With that said I do not think it is impossible to define these abstractions but I do think it may be impossible to ever fully understand them. Example) Infinite, we define it as endless or limitless .But could we fully understand it? Can we imagine an infinite amount of numbers? I believe not.