Some ramblings on an unknown subject. I found this stray poem on my notepad without a title to it, so I just gave it a title here. If you have a better idea of what title fits better, please leave your comment. Thank You.
Soon after I obtained my degree in Philosophy, I realised that knowledge is useless, in and of itself. It is a means, not an end – a tool to the ultimate realisation of who we truly are. The irony is that once we have reached this place of inner knowing, all thinking ceases. Can we trust what we think we know anymore?