People insist accumulating knowledge breeds growth. The smarter we become, the further our hands venture into that big open sky, and the taller we sprout, how much tinier and tinier the world seems. Like a cup of coffee, two sugars and a creamer - we've got that shit figured out.
But I do wonder, why is it that the more I learn about this world, the more disconnected I feel from it? Riddle me that, Planet! Why is it, exactly, that the more I understand, comprehend, and anticipate emotions, the less I fare to feel them? Sometimes I feel like every book I've ever read is stacked atop my heart, which is interesting, considering that if you read a lot of books, you read a lot of people. Sometimes it seems that an expansive vocabulary imposes the ability to mark and identify each tension, lesion, and fair weather smile in social strata with a single word.
For example, I know when an empathetic smile trumps a consolatory hug, and I find myself fairly accurate in choosing battles, but there's something about all this "knowledge" that's really got me flipped around.
We're not growing. Not a little bit. Not at all.
They sa
y everything that rises must converge. If that were true, then we would all have met by now, and we would all be intimately connected at all sorts of relational levels. However, I find it increasingly accurate that, as I grow older, fewer and fewer people really "get me." I'm floating further and further, spirited away in the winds whirled at the flip of the page, and I don't see anyone.
y everything that rises must converge. If that were true, then we would all have met by now, and we would all be intimately connected at all sorts of relational levels. However, I find it increasingly accurate that, as I grow older, fewer and fewer people really "get me." I'm floating further and further, spirited away in the winds whirled at the flip of the page, and I don't see anyone.And I know I'm not alone here, so that only leaves one explanation: we're not growing; we're sinking.
I guess digging would be more accurate, and logically it makes sense. We dig to learn about the earth; we fly to escape it. So we shovel, and we tunnel. We travel deeper and deeper in search for meaning and the core of all things, and the deeper we travel, the fiercer the darkness, and so it will continue until all light is absent.
Oh but we have our knowledge, yes we do, and we learn about this earth. Just keep digging. I know I should see you guys. Sometimes I feel echoes in the holes surrounding, and occasionally distant songs drift down from that faraway surface.
God I miss you guys, but I'm too deep now, and I can't climb out. Maybe I'll see you in China.
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