Failure Is Not An Option

While revisiting my numerous, frequently maddening, philosophy texts from college, I wonder- how old do we have to be to realize that we can't really know anything? Spending nine hours a week arguing over whether or not we can actually know that a peach is a peach and not a chair might sound like a lot of mental masturbation, but it was heaven to me. Trouble is, it seems I've learned nothing from it. Fifteen years later, after holding fast to the notion that I was smarter than the average bear, it seems that I've confused wisdom with merely being clever. Sadly, clever is nothing more than narcissism dressed as entertainment- great onstage, but a nightmare in relationships. Wisdom requires always asking questions, rather than attempting a pale enlightenment with answers. The understanding that true knowledge of the human condition is an illusion makes the search for it far from futile. Instead, it is a call to action, not an excuse to cloak ourselves in relativism and conjecture.

How the wicked fuck can I be 37 years old and still trying to realize this?