From a Notebook Lost: The Same and The Other 11
Entering through the door, of which I first looked, and then was opened to me from where I know how or when. But I with confidence walk in and up the stairs leading to a room and or rooms of which I can sure and certain that they contain something or nothing. So surely and steadily I go towards what I consider a goal of somewhat no worth, but I go for reasons unbeknownst to me, but I know, I go. Reaching the peak, apex of the stairs I look down and see a vastness I could not see from the bottom. It opens up like a book to me, and I wonder why I had not seen it before, but realized that some things can only be seen from the top, a different perspective. I sit myself on the top step, chin in my hands, elbows on my knees, just sitting, occasionally thinking, but mainly just sitting. Only for a time though for I most go to a goal, which is the room, directly behind me, at my back. I have yet to look or gaze upon the door, but now I look and slowly get up to move towards the door. Reaching my summit, I reach out and grasp the doorknobs and turn them, and to my dismay and surprise, I find them locked, and I was unable to open them in anyway I saw possible. Searching for a way in, my purpose and goal is gone. It seems a failure for I have not finished my exodus, now it has come to a premature end, and or a beginning. For in this end perhaps there be a beginning to something or nothing, and that maybe a new goal or purpose. So I find hope a depressing moment, but an empty hollow hope, for it still be a failure; no matter how I paint the picture. Adding to it and subtracting even to make it seem worth while to try, but know that without an end all is a waste of time. Now I seek an answer and reason to this, for though it serve no point, I search for a point somewhere and somehow. But now what, I seem to have lost something along the pathway, that leads me to believe or think that no point was served here or not, but maybe perhaps there be a point hidden somewhere amongst the rocks and trees and waters. There exists the point of this, but not so, for the point exists not in what I can see or hear, but exists somehow. In such a manner; than it exists.