Seated on a train next to my former crush. Along our route there’s a slowdown, then a clunky stop, between one tunnel and another.
She and I aren’t talking. But she passes a piece of paper (or simply leaves it out) on the table for me.
There’s a line of blue handwriting on it, a single stroke crossing it out. I perceive that she’s trying to help me understand how to talk to her.
I begin passing short notes her direction.
…and it happened to me. Ask me about it and I won’t know exactly how to explain. I’ll tell you what I think I know. Knowledge is tricky, it seems to me. If we really get down to nitty-gritty, if we really examine the evidence carefully, it can be said — in a literal, non-symbolic sense — that we actually know nothing. We only think we know. I’ll tell you what I think I know. Hopefully you want to think you know it, too.
Hey, I have a blog. Wow. That’s nice to rediscover.