The Scrambled Philosophies That I Call Thoughts

Something I Wrote Back When I Had Write's Block

My insatiable thirst for knowledge has ruined me, once again. I see the sky, and I still see beauty, but it's not the same anymore. Before, early in my years, it was all about imagination. I knew next to nothing, but even then, I yearned to know, so I had to imagine explanations to the beautiful phenomenons in this world. But now, there's school, and facts, and gosh, I feel like I know everything. And yeah, that's what I wanted, but then again, it's not. You know how a magician does a magic trick, and usually, the first thing you want to know-and you're wise if you don't-is "how did you do that?!" And if the magician does happen to give you an answer-which is very unlikely-you feel satisfied that you got the answer you wanted, but somewhere deep inside your heart, you feel a tiny pang, because there's nothing mysterious about it anymore, and you know the big secret now, and there's no wonder anymore, and the excitement is gone, and you know that you can never get it back. That's how I feel. And you know what, I admit it: it makes me feel so dang desperate, because with each passing day, I learn more, and things become less and less new, and I'm doing it to myself. 'Cause dang it, I don't want to lose my creativity, yet I also want to know more-I always have. See that right there? Not that is what you call mixed feelings. But at least I'm feeling something.