Visions of splinters

I don't know.
Do we thrust ourselves towards & through the holes in our knowledge, like play-doh through a grate?
The more we specialize, the more we compartmentalize.
See, we can scatter ourselves, which approximates how scattered we truly are inside our heads, but maybe we are supposed to be better than how we are.
Should we be more conscious, or less?
Preserve that which is not explained. Tension, mystery, paradox. 
I'm drawn to the forest because there is still a mystery there, but not a mystery that can (or needs to be) explained. 
Yet if we stop questioning, we've given up.
We will never have a final answer.
And that's the final answer.
Language makes us stronger. But maybe we don't need strength. But maybe a life without language is a life lived in fear, made the worse because you can't even label what you're feeling fear. 
You either keep going or you don't. But you can go too far.

Cliff notes for this post: Maybe. But! Then again: no; Yes! On the other hand (could be), in  a way: And yet---