This isn’t always the legitimate question. At least not when the one you question has the right to do things in its own way, without explaining itself. The only benefit comes when the one who asks needs to know the answer.
You can take it as a gathering of shattered thoughts that are bound to disintegrate in the midst of oblivion otherwise. Have you ever wondered how many good ideas are lost, just because of the fear of them being heard out loud? Just because of the mere questioning of their common sense. Just for the thought that one might look ridiculous, even in its own eyes.
You can also take it as the strife of a soul that’s under construction. The result of its sleepless hours, wandering deserts and valleys, climbing up astounding heights, but having so lively in its memory the desperate cries coming from the depths of the filthy pits it found itself into.
You can see this as a sketch in which the heart’s pale pigments dare to be exposed, where, as in reality, as long as there is light, shadows make their way through. A depiction that might look hideous if looked upon demandingly, but, for unknown reasons and by divine means, can bring the faintest contribution to the bigger picture of He who made us all magnificently different.
My earnest desire isn’t to please ones expectations, but to bring up the feeling one has, when thinking itself lost, suddenly sees something, a familiar view, a road sign that points the way back home and calms the torrent of frightened heartbeats.
Hoping you’ll learn to ask the right questions,
A pale soul.