Why must be the hardest question we ever ask. It’s a single word powerful enough to bring us down, weak in the knees, trembling in the terriblest of pain. We ask why we have to wake up everyday, why we have to live, why we have to suffer, why we have to hurt others, why things often go wrong, why we haven’t made it big time, why we exist, why we lose the ones we love, why we lose ourselves, why we forget, why we act stupid, why we need attention and why we can’t get it or can’t get enough of it, why we have to study, why we have to learn things the hard way, why we love if only to die with it awake, why memories escape though we hold on tight, why we are forgotten, why we are never enough, why  we haven’t found a cure for AIDS or cancer or insomnia, why we grow old, why the world has gotten so cruel and unfair, and again, why we exist and cease to…  A single why can take us years, if not a lifetime, to figure out. And answers are never found without having to ask more and more and more that plain asking becomes exhausting and worth giving up on. Why do we have to bother? Can’t we just take life by one scene to the next, one memory to the other, one dream and goal and love and hope at a time and care less about the rest? Maybe asking all these whys shouldn’t be the goal; maybe it’s hanging on to life with the functionality of an ellipsis. Let it unfold as it comes. Let it overtake us ’til we are out of  room for questions inside our hearts. I don’t know if this is possible. But as long as we breathe, then I guess it can be attempted.  And for all we know, done.

      – “Whys” , Yen’s Weather Report on April 2 2014, a Wednesday.

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