Anyone who’s read John Green books knows how mysterious he likes his female characters. They are charming, sometimes flawed but always mysterious.
Makes me wonder, what is this human fixation with mystery ?
I’m someone who’d prefer mystery over almost any other personality trait. My Instagram handle: BlackLace is a proof of that.
Isn’t it quite intriguing to wonder what is it about the unknown that calls to us so much ?
Is it the risk of not knowing what we’re getting ourselves into ?
Is it the forbidden-ness of it all that tugs at our heartstrings ?
Or maybe it’s the promise of a new, never been felt before, tachycardiac adventure ?
A bit cliche but most of the times the journey is better than the destination.
It’s the road map we follow, the riddles we decode and the adrenaline that comes with it that makes up most of the aura than the answer to the mystery itself.
It’s almost as if we don’t want the answer, only the mystery to last an eternity.
The bite of the forbidden fruit is almost never as satisfying.
We try to delay it, lengthen it, stretch it but all things must come to an end. Why ? Who made the rules? I want to talk to the supervisor, please!
Once the search ends, it is so difficult to find another well-suited mystery for ourselves. Is this how we’re supposed to live our lives ? Mystery to mystery and life that happens in between?
If somehow we could live in that loop of mystery, for an eternity, having something to expedite our hearts, that would do it.
That would, maybe, appease our hungry souls and allow us to look forward to something!