Will the questions that torture my intelligence ever be answered (or at least exist in a barable medium)? As long as these questions question there can be no intellectual rest. These very questions lead to other questions and so on to infinity. Controlling intellectual access to these questions can be viewed as denying the inevitable. But these questions are the very thing of which I am now questioning. What is their importance, provided the fact that life is really one big question itself? Where do they fit in the very existance of humanity? These questions have survived the bloodiest wars and the darkest days of poverty and even the triumph of wealth and abundance, yet they still remain unanswered. Maybe we can assume that the ultimate answer is death; death being the final peace treaty. Death creates a utopia of non-existance: a place where these questions cannot exist. Therefore, in death, the questions are answered because they can no longer be asked. But, even in this state of non-existance, life continues. Rebellion, in and of death, is life; which is essentially they very thing I am questioning. So I must not die then.