Why?!

Why is it that sometimes something is right in front of me and I cannot reach out to it? Why is it that sometimes things are clear and I can’t make sense of it? Why is it that sometimes I want to say things to people and am not able to do it?

I have a long path to tread on to reach my destination. A person I know whizzes past on a vehicle. I want to hail and show my thumb the way I want to go, but why is it that I don’t do it? And when I do, the person is easily out of earshot.

The milk had spilt long ago. I wonder why it is still a wound. The story was right in front of me, a page one lead story. It just doesn’t cease to prick me. Why is it that I just cannot let it go by, into the voluminous editions of time?

Why is it that I stare into empty space, thinking about nothing? Why is it that I can’t hear things properly? Why is it that I read backwards and up and down and round and round when I am reading? Why is it that I go blank when I talk to people? Why can’t I talk like others do?

Why indeed?