| Dave's Poems |
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| What does it mean to be me? Each day I ask myself these questions. Each day they bounce around inside my mind. Who am I? Am I defined by my heritage. Do my bloodlines hold sway over me. Are my thoughts the thoughts of my forefathers. If so why am I not the same as those before me? What makes me different from them? Who am I? Perhaps I am merely a collection of thoughts belonging to those that I have encountered in my life. Are my actions not my own, merely a concensus of the thoughts of those around me. Is my freedom just an illusion that is subject to the whims of others. Who am I? Or am I completely free in all my choices, influenced by nothing. Are all of us alone in the world? Are we desperaratly clinging to a society that attempts to give us meaning. Who am I? How can one man answer a question that has plagued humanity since time began. How odd, that a single thought can drive men to the brinnk of insanity, just from contemplating. Who am I? Is it possible that a person can not truly understand who they are? They say that a person is consistently growing and learning as they go through life. If this is the case, then a person could define themselves, unquestionably, then they no longer changed. And since life is change, then they could no longer be alive. To those of you who have taken this mental journey with me, I say this: Life is change, you will always be changing. Don't waste your life looking for an answer that may never be answered. But maybe in our last moment of life, we are granted this knowledge. Could that be why some die with a smile, and others a look of horror. But whether you will know the answer or not you still must look, because if there is no question, how can there be an answer. |
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| Novels |
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