Questions for the self.
What is this mystery?
Who are we?
What can we even be certain about?
Where does it begin?
Does it end?
Do we move because we decide to,
Or does it move us?
Do we breathe,
Or does it breathe us?
What do we have to prove?
Is there a destination?
What is one small identity within such a great force?
Imagine you never learned a human language.
What would your thoughts look like?
How would you communicate with others?
What would you base your identity upon?
Who would you be,
Or rather what would you be then?
Not everything has to be explained.
Do I have to be certain about anything?
I don't know.
Who knows?
Maybe.
Each time I choose to react or respond differently than all the times before,
I create a seed for a new future,
And I convince myself through experience that a new way is possible.
What if success is just a story I've accepted?
What if history is just a lot of stories I've accepted?
What if career and business models are just concepts we accepted?
What if aging is just a story I've accepted?
What if time is just a story I've accepted?
What if there was no story?