“Questions; ?”

A few of the questions I asked myself today.

Who am I trying to impress?

Why does one work for the sake of progressing?

If one works in order to progress to the next level then at what level can one stop needing to progress and finally be content?

If one aspires to be someone they aren’t. How the fuck do they become someone they want to?

I ask myself these questions knowing that nor I or any other soul on this insignificant planet can answer them. If I already know that then why do I keep asking?

I keep asking because I’m under this illusion that somehow I’ll find the answer, I’m just stuck in this paradox you see, I know there is no answer; yet I still expect one to pop up, alternatively is a question with no answer even a question?

WHY DO I KEEP DRIVING MYSELF INSANE?

What’s the point of writing down all these questions? Is it not better to just allow them to fade into my other thoughts?

In “masks; 51.” I ended with a comment on structure: that it’s a lie. But now just merely 24 hours later I question myself, is it?

If structure was a lie then every individual would not only be asking themselves the same questions I ask myself, the suicide rate would be sky high. At least that’s the opinion of one of the masks I wear. I wonder sometimes that am I who I am because of what I was socialized to be, if so then am I even alive?

How can one be alive, that is: Make conscious decisions, strive for improvement (the way society entails) and separate themselves from the billions of entities that devour the scarce resources on this tiny unsustainable planet?