whilom

like everything i’ll never find again at the bottom of the ocean

maybe it’s human to want to disassemble everything to understand every inch of how things work or fall apart. perhaps what’s frightening is how some things weren’t meant to be answered and probably never will be. it’s downright terrifying is what it is. it throws a shroud over you late at night when you’re tossing and turning in bed. it chills you to the bone so you twist up into a foetal position trying to say a prayer to put you to sleep so you don’t try for the mill and oneth time to connect the dots and chart out whowhatwhenwherehow and probably the most daunting: why

perhaps peace comes only when you can put aside all the questions and come to accept that some things aren’t meant to be understood. i guess when it comes down to that we seek solace in the idea that it all happens for a reason and somehow fits into the grander scheme of things in some sorta beautifully crooked mystery. bugger

i would like to beg you dear sir, as well as i can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. and the point is to live everything. live the questions now. perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.
-from letters to a young poet, rainer maria rilke