When you google this sentence, you encounter all kinds of advice about avoiding suicide, how to become successful or more detached from the rat race.
That’s not what I don’t know anymore.
So what don’t I know anymore?
Here I would like to scream; EVERYTHING!
I used to write an essay of about 180 pages where I meticulously made an effort to think all the knowledge I accumulated over the years together, and was rather smug about it when I finished it. Just to discover shortly afterwards that it just showed how ignorant I am. I suppose when you can resume the most substantial part of your knowledge on 180 pages, you’re at best mediocre.
Then I wrote a novel, a historical fantasy, just trying to write something that I would have liked to read, and everyone was complaining that it was too difficult, while my intention was to entertain.
I visit concerts, museums, art expositions, read world literature and newspapers, follow up on the latest scientifically discoveries as long as it doesn’t grow beyond my capacity for understanding. Nada.
I’ve tried my lifelong to find an anchor in some philosophy or religion. More humbledebumble.
The only moment I find some peace is when the evening comes, and I sit down with my partner since 20 years to drink two beers, watch the sunset while she sips a glass of wine. She also doesn’t know IT, but apparently doesn’t care. As long I’m there and don’t drink more than two beers.
Is there someone out there who knows IT?