Thoughts in Bold Ink

From Circles and Question Marks

I am from… Well, I’m from my mother

Another part of me is from my father

Both of whom I know and love

Oh, did you mean “from who” or “from where”?

Well, what does “where” mean?

Do you mean my genes, or my current community?

Well I don’t remember where I got them from, exactly

But there was a good sale that day, but as for community

Well, I come from a place that asks me, “Where ya from?”

Whenever I go there

So I guess I’m not from anywhere except my mother

Who was from her mother, from her mother…

Interesting how you use the word “from”

As if I don’t belong here

Hmm… I suppose that’s a better question than “Where ya off to?”

‘Cause I do know where I plan to be

But who knows where I’ll end up?

Yes, plans are made and they get messed up

Got blueprints, but someone trips up

And amongst all the confusion, order is somehow found

More like confusion is the order

Like how the sperm that carried a part of me

Found its way first, somehow

Or how I end up in situations where what I do

May or may not matter

Or how we try to live out a life we never asked for

And try to gain control of the uncontrollable that controls itself uncontrollably…

I’m talking about life

A series of questions behind and before you

A place where answers only generate more questions

That have you going in circles

So, to answer your question simply:

I don’t know.