Thoughts.

With his hands slid into his coat's pocket, with his eyes gazing at the emptiness of the night's beautiful sky, with his legs walking towards nowhere, with his thoughts wavering from questioning the purpose of our existence to what lies beyond infinity and then suddenly to the fact that we're more or less only as significant as we would ever like to be, he was moving along the creek's bank.

He was vague. He concluded that there aren't any beginnings, neither are there endings. There are no absolutes, maybe a few relatives. There needs to be no rights, no wrongs and nothing in between them. We all are just a figment of our own beliefs, our own beliefs about being altruistic. Maybe some part of us believes altruism is the right path but then again, it contradicts the original thought that there aren't any rights. Or maybe its that thought that's wrong just like the thought that there aren't any absolutes. Maybe rights and wrongs are absolutes and maybe its us who just aren't aware of the right parameter to measure these, for we are beings who believe a lot more in science which dictates parameters within every ounce of itself. Or maybe, he thought, just maybe he's overthinking. But then again, what is over thinking? And what is thinking too little? How can it be qualified, or at the very least, quantified?