Numb

There's a lot of secrets that belong inside me. They make me numb, they make me think. They're not mine. Old secrets that probably don't belong to anyone now. They were important once and then their time passed, vanished away with those people and the only think that was left was me still wandering about them.
Now I think about my own secrets that consume me. All the wanderings and doubts are so completely useless. Nevertheless I keep wandering and I try to see a possibility where there is none. How could it be?