What We Know.

We know the Earth is round, and that the Sun rises in the morning.
We know that strawberries taste good, that blueberries taste good, that all sorts of berries taste good.
We know that where we are is exactly where we should be, even though we fight it sometimes with all of our might.
We know Germany lost.
We know what happens when we add 2 to 4, 6 to 8, and divide 12 by it's square root.
We know (secretly) that there is one thing about us that is more beautiful then anything else in this world, even though we hide it most (all) of the time.
We know there is a giant island of trash in the middle of the Pacific Ocean that is twice the size of Texas, but no one seems to be doing anything about it.
We know what our home looks like from outer space.
We know cigarettes are bad for our health.
We know things will get worse before they get better.
We know our favorite color, our favorite item of clothing, and our favorite food (but we are still uncertain about our favorite song).
We know that love is real, and that it is fleeting, and that the only way it will ever really exist for most of us is in the hallways of memory, where things never turned out the way we expected, and which will always, always be better then the present moment.
We know that all of this is a lie.

What we don't know is this:
What to say.
What to do.
What happens next.

We know the Earth is round,

and that the Sun rises in the morning.