Sunday, August 7, 2016

On Not Knowing Things

The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark 

Act V 

Scene IV Elsinore. A platform before the castle

Ophelia 

...Lord, we know what we are,but know not 
What we may be..



Confession: I've stopped reading. 

The last book I read, remains unfinished, at home tucked inside the upside down red tool that I had made into a portable bookshelf. My mind hovers around that shelf of unread, well loved books and I stare at the one cold book next to my makeshift sleeping bag bed in my quiet, heavy room now. I don't know why, the room feels heavy. I open the window often enough, let the light and breeze play in but my mind won't stop fidgeting. 

Somewhere in all this traveling I've lost my footing, the quiet order and rhythm of events that my life was built so carefully around- my little portable upside-down-tool-for-a-bookshelf life. Not sure what I have right now, is..sometimes I just stop thinking and blank out completely, people would be talking to me and my head will be off somewhere grasping for one familiar strain of a Leonard Cohen song. 

I don't know where this sudden fixation on Leonard Cohen songs is coming from...


I don't know so many things..


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