The greats say, “write about what you know.” Of course, why not just write what you know? Why the clarifying and mystifying “about?” The crux of the matter is, we cannot know anything. Think of even the most basics of commonly accepted facts or notions. Take for instance the idea that we are awake. What if I was to suggest that we are actually asleep now, and those things that we know as dreams are actually reality. The rest of what we do is nothing more than dreams that we happen remember, and awake from when we hit the sheets. The majority of you would say that’s ridiculous. But there are a few out there who surely will think about it on a deeper level, and it is you for whom I share my writing.
At this point in my life, I just want something real. I want to feel something real. I want to know something real. I need it. My hands need to feel skin. My mouth needs to taste blood. My mind needs to know truth. But what can we really know? Knowledge is a strange thing. As is belief. Can we ever believe something fully, without reservation, without doubts? If the answer is no, then belief itself does not even make sense. The more I question things, the less I believe. Previous “truths” that I once accepted are now little more than confusing concepts or interesting ideas. What’s the answer? I am a firm advocate in questioning all, taking nothing on face value, digging deep. And yet, such a way of life seems to lead to the seemingly unhealthy recognition that uncertainty surrounds us and truth is certainly hiding.