The coolest question ever, maybe. I used to drive my Mom crazy asking her questions. It seems I have been searching for something my whole life. Aging has not changed my ways. I am always asking why, I am always searching for an answer. My life doesn’t change if I don’t ask for the things I need, the things I want and the things I want to understand. I write my thoughts down to help myself sort out the crap. I was drawn to blogging. It is easier for me to articulate my feelings and set them afloat on the world wide web than it is to make yet another journal no one will ever read. I want to be heard. I want to be seen; not looked at or through. I want to matter.
So why ask why? when the questions stop coming and the answers evade there is no need to find the end of the rainbow, or the cure for cancer, or why puppies make me happy and Christmas makes me cry. Why ask why? I am not ready to give up on the answers.