Last night I awoke after my first post in quite a while, and like usual I had some of the strangest thoughts. So naturally I also had the most strange responses to myself. As I lay there not quite sure that I awoke, only sure that I could hear the rain on the window pain above my head and the soft sigh of the wind I reminisced on the things I have experienced. I thought about the knowledge I know, and all the knowledge I wish to attain...it is a strange thing, knowing that you wish to know more about how to know as much as possible. Yet all the while feeling you know too much.
Its like this, my nightly thoughts.
It's horrible to say that I feel such unease, especially knowing the things that I do, and ignoring the things that I don't. I fear the intelligence of the mind often renders it's user disadvantageous. For as I lay in my bed, only hoping for the asylum of mindless abyss if only to receive the soft answer of the wind, I instead endure an amaranthine assault of thoughts and questions. Of most of these I am sure I will never have the answer to. These casuistic, and frankly illogical questions, often only support my most recent belief. That ignorance truly is bliss. A man named Aldous Huxley once said "facts don't cease to exist because they are ignored" but it had me thinking that surely it must be easy to posses fewer curiosities if only you retain less to be curious about.
Just my two cents on the topic.
x Be Blonde Be Beautiful x
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