The Scrambled Philosophies That I Call Thoughts

Why?

So many things at the same time
I want to faint and I'm dizzy, yet I can't abort my smile
And I feel like crying and I just want to talk and say something, just anything, but I'm at a loss for words even though there's everything to say.
And there's a fog in my mind, and it's been there for a while and that's why I seem so dumb
So why is it that I go through my days only feeling numb?
Yet I'm on the brink of laughing—at nothing—but maybe because I've forgotten how
But the answer is right in front of me, and I can't comprehend it now
And you want to hate the world, because it keeps you from being free
Yet all it has to offer is itself: the temptation in front of me
But I can't bring myself to hate anything
Because I'm too empathetic for my own good
And if I could muster up some courage, maybe I could at least be rude
But I guess that's not who I am,
But who am I, anyway?
Is it already pre-determined?
Does it change?
Can I even have a say?
There are so many things to talk about in life
And that's why I want to be a philosopher
That's the reason I write
But people say I can't make any money doing that
But I guess I don't care
I want to dig down deep into the core of things
Instead of walking with my nose in the air
And emotions are my inspiration
Because they're all that I know
And when I can't think straight and use my head
I just let what's in my heart flow
And poetry and music are my life
And I don't know how people can live without them
Probably because they don't know about them
And I try to avoid cliches
But ignorance is bliss, as the saying goes
But I wonder if at applies to life in general
I wonder what would happen if we just knew NOTHING