I don't know what I'm doing. "I don't know where I'm going. I only know where I've been."
To find yourself lost although completely set on a path is a conundrum in itself. I feel as though I am in a living limbo simultaneously crashing with a state of natural reality. I don't know what you are doing and I don't know what you are thinking. And by you, I mean the general population of which I interact with on a somewhat regular basis. In fact, I don't really know what I am actually thinking. Much less doing. And to think of life as what it actually is; essentially a proverbial wasteland of mistakes only shadowed by the occasional success point sprinkled with intersections of lives here or there, whether for a moment of a lifetime; is a very frightening thought.
But wait, what am I saying? Do I really believe that's the deal here? To reiterate the previous statement: I don't know. I have a multifaceted point of view which sees life as the best, the fleeting, and the shit. Each day provides a different experience, no matter how close it may seem to another previous day, of which one can reflect and add to the infinite library of human experience. I am not sure of whether or not the meaning of life could be defined by a single day, or yet a single minute of an event. But it is not a possibility? Or is it that we truthfully reflect and make perfectly thought out evaluations of life as a whole? I would suppose it would be safe to say that we do both, or neither.