empty jars..

"if i've finished all my cookies can i not go buy somemore?", the little boy asked the world.
'No, you may not', was the reply he got back.
"Why can't i? If it is what i want, why can i not have it? Who are you to stop me? Who are you to say I may not? Why am I even asking?", the boy says with a slightly irritated voice.
'It is not whether or not you want it... And no one is stopping you but yourself... There is no glass between you and the cookies... no physical boundary but the one in your head... Why are you even asking?'

because there are things we will never understand...

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have i used up all my perfect days? are they all in the past? crossed the boundary between present and history? gone into a book in my mind tucked up neatly into a page that i may chance upon every now and then? and there are others who have more 'perfect days'... why the uneven balance? what do i make of what i have before me? sticks, stones and water? what do i do? what can i do? be creative and do whatever i feel is right? how do i know it's right? how did i learn if it's right or wrong? was it not all from the moment i opened my eyes in a bright room with masked heads surrounding me? what am i doing here?