Knowing too much but not enough.

The main difference about childhood, adolescence, grownup and being an elder is not as much time of existence but the amount of awareness and knowing about things.

Has it ever occurred to you that you wished that you knew less than you know now because the knowledge now is connected in some sort or another to an uncomfortable piece?

How often do you wish to know as little as when you were 10 or 12 or maybe even 20 or 25 of age? And yes, sometimes I could kick myself for not fully enjoying some of my earlier years and the adventures within – at the time.

Knowing is a good thing… basically.

But when this truth opens an abyss of hopelessness and sadness, what is then better, to be oblivious – drown it in alcohol, drugs, or even in a new cycle of life; or to suffer through the years with this knowledge but do nothing – which is nothing else than apathy or worse; or begin to revolt – well, but against what, you don’t really want to go against truth; or go in circles and circles, trying to find a solution out of it and to introvert more and more on the problem…

Best solution I’ve found is to stop acting lie a Yorkshire Terrier which just found a fat rat and to toss the chewing away, acknowledge that there IS a situation and then to try to do something creative with it, like trying to work the issue into the subject of a painting.

It does not solve the problem, but at least it’s not digging me further into black masses.