trudging through the semi-darkness of life that lies
in front of me,
and in regions my vision can only hope
to pierce, i see –
the more i know,
the more there is to know.
there is no light at the end of the tunnel. the tunnel
is a crooked dead-end, faintly lit
across the teetering dancing shadows of
the little knowledge i stumble upon.
and the little knowledge i stumble upon
i foolishly label a rock.
a scraggly little thing, here only to make
my journey harder than it should be.
one projects from the ground while one
hits me directly on the consciousness. i don’t stop.
they’re only rocks.
scraggly little things, meant for me to jump over
their presence only affirming the need
for me to step over and move on.
the surface only to remind me
of things more pleasing to my touch.
if a tall boulder does dare to exist
obscuring my way ahead
the inky, sullen umbra,
has its soft blurred edges
like an eclipse eating away at the gloom
and which only serves to remind me
shadows aren’t quite as dark, as dark is
and serve instead as a reminder
that light beyond exists.
There’s this theory, whose name I don’t remember, that says if you imagine your current amount of knowledge as a sphere, then your ignorance is like the outer cover of that sphere. Constantly attached to it, and growing in proportion with it. So whenever your sphere of knowledge increases, so does your ignorance. The more things we know, the more things we don’t know. But that shouldn’t stop us from learning more and more. I believe knowledge is infinite. Einstein believed that human stupidity is infinite. So John Green was right when he said that some infinities are bigger than other infinities. And Michael Scott said, “Sometimes I’ll start a sentence, and I don’t even know where it’s going. I just hope I find it along the way.” Now replace sentence with caption.