Questioning myself

I remember sitting at my computer with my eyes open but shut off.  I thought to myself once all this learning is done I'll finally be smart enough to say what's on my mind.  I'll have something to talk about.  I'll have something to write about.  I can't wait til the homework is finished because then I get to do what I want to do.  That's what life is like - you do your homework, and then after you do what you want to do.  And the best part is when you do it that way, in that order, chances are you'll be able to better appreciate what you're doing.  Practice makes perfect.  There's an art and science to everything, so you better get good at your arts and sciences first.

One day, I made a choice.  I did something I wasn't too sure about.  I did something that doesn't get me anywhere.  I paid money, my father's and my own together, and took a course that has nothing to do with anything, and found out that it has everything to do with everything.  It was the one moment in the last year that could have gone either way that wasn't smothered in purpose - sublimely coincidental that it was a course in existentialism.  It could have gone either way, but it only would have gone one of two ways.  It was have meant nothing, or it would have redefined me for likely the rest of my life.

And yet, a nut wrapped enough chocolate is no longer a nut wrapped it chocolate, it becomes a ball of chocolate with a nut in the center. I am shrouded in purpose.  The last decade has been intensely purposeful. - get here, get there, get further.  So much purpose covering this nut, he's lost claim to the identity of his free existence.  The greatest danger, existing purposefully for no purpose.  The second greatest danger, existing aimlessly for a purpose.  Danger still in the other two alternatives, but at least there is a happy resting bed for those patients.

So what.  For what?  What is my message?

God queries each of us.  He doesn't wait until you die to ask you; the blessed of us realize that he's asking us here on earth.  There standing on a dusty road with the entire village in earshot God poses his question.  The question is simple, which is why it is so hard to answer.  He asks you, "What would you like to say?"  When you begin to answer that, that is when you realize how much freedom you truly have; and with either joy or despair you will look back on your life and realize how much freedom you have always had.  When he asks I simply want to have an answer for him, he's much to busy and kind to bother forcing me. I'm self-inspired to have an answer, which is why I continue to question myself.  The best answers come from the questions you've already asked yourself.