Ideas are safe to meddle with. People won’t exactly burn you at the stake in this time and in this place, and the worst the experienced man will get from ideas is a case of good wholesome angst. A vertigo. An intellectual high. I toy with ideas and it keeps my mind questioning the world. It distracts it from questioning itself. Then come the signs of “Stop”, “Private property” and “Here be dragons”, cropping up like mushrooms after the rain, unnoticeable like someone else’s problem. Then you bear a small frail light in a maze of particular cases and twisting shadows you don’t recognise and understand anymore and maybe, just maybe, it’s enough to realise you don’t know how much of it is the world and how much of it is you.
Tags: ideas
