Sometimes You Have to Wonder

Or maybe it's just me that feels the need to wonder?

But what exactly is being wondered?

Ah, this is a difficult thing to articulate, particularly here, and particularly now. It is something I have wondered for a while, but have chosen not to voice such wondering. It is something that is best not wondered, or asked. It is something best left unsaid and unasked.

And so why do I mention it here at all?

Because I can. Because this is my new blank canvas. Well, perhaps not new as I've had it for a few years now. But new in the sense that recently I have utilized other forms of blank canvas, a different canvas of which I believe is no longer available to me. Gone. Disappeared. Run dry, or run out, or simply no longer exists.

But this makes me wonder.

Did it ever exist? Did I ever truly have this blank canvas which held such an importance to me? Which still holds such an importance to me? If it did not, why did it feel like I did? And, why didn't it really exist? And if it did exist, why doesn't it any longer? Was it something I did that made this canvas run out? Did I utilize it too often? Perhaps my fingers spilled too much paint upon it - too many dark and dreary colors, or too often swapping between dark and dreams or colorfully odd colors, or just painted too much upon that canvas. Or perhaps the canvas simply never wanted to be painted upon by me. Or perhaps it wanted it too much and was frightened of this desire for both the dark and colorful.

Ah, how sometimes we wonder futilely. So pointless to ponder as the answers shall never be upon us. And therefore, I stop my pondering, my wondering, my quest for understanding of this nonexistent canvas.