always

I wish I could exercise suspension of belief on certain things, instead of effectively and pretty immediately rationalizing away things I don't understand. Call it hubris or delusion or plain intellect, but my gut seems to have a pretty powerful compass when it comes to things I don't understand- I just need to point my mind the right way and pretty soon I'm grasping at the correct straws and straws turn to thread and eventually the rope that leads me out of unknowing, especially for the intangible. But sometimes staying in the darkness seems better. It's more familiar, and like the musty darkness of an old home you garner what comfort you can and it's just enough that you don't want to switch on the intrusive artificial light. You don't have to. I want a baseball bat, so I can smash all of the bulbs and bind the curtains and sit in the dark. Because then, you don't have to face the answers, your answers, and even worse than that, the stupid god-damned shining place where your answers came from. Sometimes I just want to sit in the dark and enjoy the brooding company of my un-understanding, of the pure unknowing that can really set you free. A heart can rest as easy in a tragedy as long as it doesn't have any bearing to anchor itself to. There's more I feel like offloading, but I don't know the words to make them fit. I don't know if I'm too smart or not smart enough, or if I'm too young for my age or too old. And that's how I like it.