Have you ever woken up, looked around you and almost immediately wished that you hadn't opened your eyes or looked around that morning? Have you ever watched the news on television and wondered what the hell happened to all the good people? And your siblings, how many times have you looked into the defiant eyes of your younger sister/brother (delete as appropriate) and wanted to scream and shout until they did the washing up or picked up their shoes? Are there times that you just wish you were never here? Ok so I know that's a bit of a question overload, silly questions maybe but questions nonetheless. There are questions everywhere, anywhere, about everything and they spring up or are asked all the time. Our lives are built on questions, journeys to find the answers to questions and lost people trying to figure out what the hell the question is asking in the first place. I have to ask myself questions even when I walk into or out of a classroom, questions asking why I got something wrong, who told me the right answer, what relevance the question actually has to my life. There are a lot of pointless questions out there too, like how many bones does a human have? and what are the products of photosynthesis? when did Bob Marley die? Now if you know the answers then it makes for interesting conversation, I guess. But think about how many minutes you just spent reading and trying to figure out the answers to those questions, do you feel fulfilled for being able to answer them? have they changed your direct lives? I doubt it somehow. So what was it that compelled you to search the gloomy recesses of your brain to answer them? I'm not aiming to provide you with any answers, to be perfectly honest I have no idea why I'm writing this, sometimes you have thoughts that you just have to scribble down, answer tiny questions in your brain just by writing down how you feel. I think all you'll learn from reading this is that it's far too muddled, that's how I feel. I know that right now life is far from peachy, and yet still I find myself on a quest for those pesky answers. I remember things I thought I had forgotten, maybe hoped that I had forgotten and I feel things and do things I never thought I would. So being a human I embark on a journey for answers, teasing apart the tangled mess in my brain, trying to find the answer to happiness. Not perfect happiness because as Jane Austen said, "Perfect happiness, even in memory is not often common". I don't know maybe it is possible. Maybe I need to ask more questions about how people feel, why they did and still do things and what exactly happened. You have to ask questions to heal the past, but too many questions leave you back where you started. Perhaps that's another question, how many questions is it acceptable to seek answers to?