Beautiful Cynicism III

Photo: xkcd.com

Dirty, mucky snow melting in the shade of a sunset. Peach yogurt and litchi liqueur whilst waiting for the hot water tank to reset after loads of laundry, so that I may settle in to a hot bath. All around me: boxes, cleaning, moving, upcoming upheaval. Spring: a time of change, turning over of new leaves, dawn of a new day…

On ne connaît jamais mieux une chose que par son manque.

-Christian Bobin

If we could know each other’s deepest, most innermost thoughts, feelings, and fleeting desires, we would all run screaming from one another. Sometimes, we need not know everything; sometimes we need our human ignorance. Sometimes the darkness is a needed friend, even – or especially – when what we don’t know would hurt us. Sometimes we just don’t need to know. But only if in the end it truly does no harm – when it’s ephemeral, harmless; when knowing would change nothing, and not knowing allows the inner reflection necessary. But how to judge when this is the case, and not something sinister lying in wait? A thought, a fear, an inkling – when does it become obsession, something “serious”? How does one differentiate? When is the inevitable panic justified?