The Process of

An Adventurers Past

I seek a life of adventure.
To sail across the skies in order to explore the seas.
I'm not looking for love, nor am I looking for a friend.
Most of me wants to be left alone and to be forgotten.
Another, wants to be remembered.
I'm like a dog getting ready to pass into the next world; reluctantly walking my own plank, but by my own choice.
The sharks circle below me, a void of unforgiving despair, waiting to swallow me whole.
Why do I feel nothing at all?
Why does it feel like we have no purpose.
Why do we even bother asking questions that we already have answered?
I know who I am, but I miss the days of absentminded virtues;
Mentally exploring the depths of my own subconscious realm.
The variations of my mind between a "mature craftsman" and an "Immature genius" frustrate me.
Sometimes I'd rather remain oblivious so that I might have a chance at happiness rather than be intelligent and be depressed at the state of my existence.