Sometimes knowing is good.

Sometimes not knowing is better.

Sometimes not knowing is terrible.

Sometimes knowing is.

I’m not sure what kind of time this might turn out to be.

I currently only know that I don’t know.

This knowing-about-not-knowing is more knowing than when I didn’t even know there was something to potentially know about.

And yet I still don’t know about it.

I don’t even know if I want to know.

Knowing that I don’t know is worrying.

Knowing that I am about to find out isn’t a whole lot less worrying.

Really knowing might involve a lot more worrying.

Or perhaps less.

Perhaps.

As long as one doesn’t know, one can always hope.

Or as Klimt said, as long as the canvases are empty.

As soon as you know, you know.

And then you have to deal with the consequences of knowing.

Yay….?

Maybe.

Soon I’ll know either way.

🥴😶

I’m off to get some metaphorical paint on a canvas or two.

Wish me luck.