No Questions Asked

Looking at my routine day, I find
myself reflecting on the choices of
my recent past. Much of the doings
labeled as impulsive acts, resting on little
experience. Yet, it is these choices
that I pride the most. Now, between
puddles and thunder I smile each
time my hand consciously shifts
through gears, a feeling I sought
out with no prior experience and
perhaps even a slight worry that I
was subconsciously inflating the
worth of. Other impulsive acts have
lead me to yearn for a snow covered
hill, so that I may strap a board to
my feet and slalom through the
fresh powder. A thought that instantly
invaded my mind, now entertaining
me during the sunless months.
For leisure, I now frame my thoughts
in the view finder, celebrating yet
another hobby which seems to have
no legitimate parent. Simply a choice
bred in dreams. I have always loved
these things, even before having the
tools to act out. There was no question
in my mind that suggests otherwise.
Perhaps sometimes it's best not to ask
questions, or inversely interpret them
as doubt and possible warnings.