How Knowledge Became My Enemy — Contending Against What Murdered My Passion And Self

In the list of words I’ve come to resent… I never guessed “knowledge” was one. And there’s a reason beyond unintelligence and lack of passion. 

Knowing

Knowledge, learning, intellect — these words feel abhorrent now. I realize that sounds absurd. Do I want to remain unknowledgeable and ignorant then? Why do I feel this way?

Once again, I can only reveal that through introspection. I would’ve thought I was broken in the past. But I now know my feelings aren’t from nothing, but from what I’ve experienced.

Through pressures and influences, a noble pursuit now feels like a vapid tool for demeanment, lies, and hopelessness. It threw me into the deepest recesses of despair. 

This is my exploration through knowledge, and how it killed me.

Wonder No More

Learning was a mystical experience in school. Math could make a rocket land within inches, or optimally adjust an image’s brightness. The intricate workings of the ecosystem and human body were ones to behold.

The pursuit of knowledge was sometimes frustrating though. I struggled in high school. No matter what I did, sometimes I just couldn’t grasp what was taught. I passed my classes anyway.

Then these topics emerged again as part of more complex processes in college. Surely, the next level of hell was coming. I had no further practice since graduating high school. 

Yet somehow, I solved these problems immediately — everything just clicked.

The wonder I lost in high school returned. There were still challenges — I still wonder how I passed some classes (namely physics…), but I regained interest in the intricate workings of this universe.

Linear algebra, theory of computation, artificial intelligence. This was right before ChatGPT and AI insanity. I learned about game theories and how bots make decisions. 

It was remarkable to discover they’re hardly “intelligent” at all. It wasn’t magic — it was algorithms. I understood the logic like any other program. 

“Artificial intelligence” was demystified, and didn’t seem as unfathomable. 
Yet knowing that made me giddier.

But then came the emptiness of post-graduation, where hope and opportunity were nonexistent. My experiences, my work, everything was downgraded to a worthless state. 

Through endless doomscrolling, I was inundated with horrible notions. College and my personal projects were a fantasyland, nothing I experienced was “real” enough. 

The endless lists of terms. The languages, the techniques, the environments, the architectures. The methods, the facts, the insight, the cracks. Experience with communications, arbitrations, and everything in between. 

How would I ever know everything? It sounded complex, convoluted, and highly technical. Requiring critical thinking, methodological tinkering, and broad insight into the domain. 

This only made me feel one thing — complete and utter deficiency. Human failure. So naive and unknowing, I might as well off myself. It wasn’t limited to internet sensation — I heard it firsthand through the subtle laughs and ghosting. 

The endless rants of how college graduates were infantile, and could do nothing. Mere bachelor’s degrees and naive experiences equated to worthlessness. I scrolled and scrolled endlessly. 

That’s the message I got from the world. 

“You’re hopeless. You know nothing, and you never will. Just die.”

I sought to connect with this “real world” and escape my apparent delusions. Not wanting to be “naive” any longer, I conceded mentally. I accepted this notion I was told — that I knew nothing, I was dumb, I was stupid. And I was yet to experience reality. 

How quaint, how cute it was to think I knew anything — or ever could know anything.

After a hellish 9 months of nothingness, I found a place where I could contribute through volunteering. I was told it was okay not to know frameworks like Django, and that I could learn.

I harrowed despite that because I was convinced of my inability. I thought my explanation of my experience was misunderstood, and that I’d get ousted as a fraud. Good old imposter syndrome. 

The first month, I only made a minor widget on the interface. The next ones involved complex logic but overhauled the UI. Soon, I delved into the backend workings. Then the models. 

I never used an ORM or database in my projects. I wanted to but didn’t know where to begin. I didn’t know how to use JQuery, cloud platforms, or any of that. This was my first time hearing of many of these tools. 

Yet I found out quickly. I built larger contributions. I Googled and researched what I didn’t know about the direct problems I faced. I asked questions when I rarely got stuck and got answers that way too. 

I went from not knowing to knowing within minutes. 
At most, a few weeks. 

I knocked out these highly technical concepts I felt I could never grasp. Technically, I could now say I “trained AI models, used cloud technologies, used web frameworks.”

They’re the same esoteric terms I thought I‘d never conceive. The words conjured images of hacking individual bits and electricity around, doing wizardry — which I could’ve done since I learned bitwise operations in college.

But the words always had to mean something beyond my comprehension. 

I said I wasn’t angry the last time I recalled this story. I’m very much ticked off this time, as I’ve had more time to think about the harm these notions caused. As I achieved more, I realized an infuriating fact. 

These words kept me in a state of perpetual inadequacy, invalidated my thoughts and experiences, incapacitated me to the point of committing concussive self-harm… 

Everything I just didn’t know, and would supposedly never know…

They weren’t anywhere as complex as I was made to believe. 
Not even close.

I don’t seek to sound like a pompous know-it-all, but I won’t lie either. It was so simple actually working with these concepts, I went — “are you f —-ing kidding me? That’s all I needed to do?” 

I thought training computer vision “AI” needed unreachable, deity-like wisdom— but I just needed to put some images and .txt files together, run a freakin’ command, and let it run for a few weeks on my GPU. And I automated that process with ease. 

I don’t understand every little detail of the theory and architecture, but that’s all I needed to know for my use case — to “implement computer vision AI” into a system. 

That’s not to downplay anything or say the domain isn’t complex — but existing tools made processes simpler for the problems I needed to address. That’s because the creators sought to ease my problems.

Yet somehow, I was convinced they were these unobtainable relics of power. Ones that my feeble, infantile mind would never grasp. The tools were used to create my obstacles instead of solving them.

I’ve continued to do new things, and I’ve yet to encounter anything that surpasses the stress of memorizing theorems in college. Perhaps I’ve evolved/become desensitized. 

But I’ve also found database models have exact parallels to OOP. A secret manager in GCP is a freakin’ dictionary with authentication. 

I’ve used complex equations like the Haversine formula or gamma adjustment, but in terms of logical complexity — it feels like I’m just moving data, calculating stuff, and showing it somewhere else. Basic loops, conditionals — not even recursion. 

I’m working on human problems, not mere theory like in school. 
But that feels way simpler to me.

I don’t need to memorize everything. I can seek help as a last resort. There isn’t an exact answer to every question… which means I can use the creativity and experiences college didn’t allow. 

Those are the same experiences I got from school and personal work. Most solutions are unbelievably simple compared to the past. Now that the facade has fallen, I’ve experienced my reality. 

And it only makes the deception damn infuriating. 

Unknowing

The face of knowledge was the greatest and most egregious lie. It killed all passion and self-esteem. It did so by wielding the power of words to hijack my insecurities through generalization and assumption. 

Knowledge was a beacon of hope but transformed nefariously as I aged. It’s no longer about what I know, but what I don’t. Rather than encouraging exploration and insight, it’s used as a baton to beat me to death. 

It’s wielded only to find, exploit, and expose my weakness in a “gotcha” moment. It assumes malintent, disingenuity, and fraudulence. “I may know this, but do I know that? Oh, you’ll see, you’re clueless.”

It creates a false reality to compare to if that wasn’t enough. Somehow, the demands take the most basic actions and turn them into an arduous battle. 

The gotchas continue.

“Do I know how to communicate effectively? Do I gauge the costs and benefits of a solution? Do I know how to voluntarily trigger an electrical impulse in my nervous system to elevate one’s left appendage and firmly grasp another’s in a repetitive vertical motion? Hmm? Hmm??!”

That is the voice that pokes, prods, and provokes my insecurities. They’re not genuine questions, but rhetoricals that already have their answer — I’m inferior.

I’ve realized most of these important, daunting words ultimately describe something mundane. This means no matter what I do, I never live up to these standards — because I experience the boring reality. 

I recently led a meeting myself. Not a huge deal, but I’m proud of it given the anxiety I’ve had in the past. When I did it, I just thought of what I needed to say — and said it. I got questions, I gave answers without an exact script. 

It amazed me when I realized that, technically, I “led a multi-functional work group to discuss technical issues and user needs.” I’ve also “compared the tradeoffs and observed fine details implementing optimal solutions to domain-specific problems.”

I never thought I could explain my actions like this. It’s just my experience didn’t match up with the fabricated jargon. I never considered my experiences as matching the bill.

An idea popped into my head, it was the best I thought of, I implemented it, and made improvements over time. 

But of course, that doesn’t sound as impressive. 

These notions permeated outside the domain of work and into every aspect of life. The state of adequacy again remained purposefully out of reach.

I soon questioned everything from my feelings to my existence. Was I capable of anything? Was I just broken? “Can you be a polite communicator?” I thought I couldn’t. 

But, in reality… (gutterally screams) *YES!*. 

“Hello, how are you? I’m fine, thank you.” — that’s it! Polite communication!!! That’s all I have to do!

Even as a socially anxious wreck, I do that naturally — yet somehow I was convinced I was incapable of these simple actions. It was made out as if I needed every synapse in my brain to fire to achieve them.

I never sought knowledge like it was this intellectual ascension, so I hardly feel I learned anything. The word never describes what I do in reality.

I searched for and got my answers. I looked for what I needed to achieve my goals and figured out what worked better. I solved my immediate problem. I never thought I was “learning.” 

Learning, with the way the word’s used, sounds like when a VFX cloud of equations and facts is absorbed into my mind, expanding the brain and horizons of existence, staring into textbooks going “Wow! Method abstraction, modular programming, amazing!” every other second. 

My “problem” was usually understandable too. Not some complex, interweaved graph of logic and whiteboards. Even if it is, it consists of simple components. 

Once again, reality clashes with the false vision, and my experiences never meet the lofty images imposed on me. My actions felt mindless against words like “smart” and “intellect” — because they were, but not in a bad way. 

The goals were pedantic, ambiguous, unactionable, and without useful meaning. Yet I believed those illusionary goals were what I had to reach if I were worth anything. 

A vast realm of possibility was devolved into a single notion — either I know or don’t, if I don’t I’m a subhuman… and I’ll always never know. All the pathways, all the creativity, all collapsed into a single, vacuous word to strive for.

Given a standard like that, to fail was guaranteed. 

Death By Humility

It wasn’t enough to kill all paths to the future. To create false standards, infantilize my thoughts, and demean everything I’d ever worked on. The throne of knowledge tag teamed on the confidence I had left. 

I tried to regain hope. I tried to believe my 16+ years of education, projects, and life weren’t useless, but I was inundated with knowledge's partner in crime — humility. 

I constantly heard about the importance of humility. “Graduates always think they know everything. Just remember there’s always someone better than you. Be humble. No ego. Be humble.”

It sounded good and logical. I didn’t want to act pompous — that was a given. I sought to concede my apparent ego. I denigrated everything I ever experienced by doing so. “Yes sir, and yes ma’am.”

This dynamic duo emphasized listening to those who knew better, but those notions were the same ones telling me I was worthless, knew nothing, and never would. 

I was forced to accept it, since their insight of me was superior.

I thought I knew the answers, but because they said so, I didn’t. They said grads like me lacked knowledge and were insubordinate. So I supposed I was lazy, incompetent, and everything else claimed of my person. 

I wouldn’t bother trying if I’d do it wrong anyway. I was stupid, and I was egotistical for thinking otherwise. I prostrated and conceded, continuously kicked into the mental recesses of hell. 

This experience wasn’t humility — it was humiliation. It assassinated my confidence through what I believed was for my benefit —but leveraged my fear of overstepping against me in reality.

When I think about it — isn’t it quite egotistical to describe a person as “above” another? To assume they know what’s right for me? Isn’t it pompous to say one’s insight doesn’t matter, and I should only adhere?

I’ve past written about the nature of advice and what ideas it reveals. When I’m told to “be humble,” what does that insinuate about the referrer’s thoughts?

Perhaps they believe I have a massive ego or the potential to grow one? Do they think I just didn’t know? Are they implying I’m close-minded as to feel obligated to tell me I shouldn’t act like a know-it-all?

“Hey Bob, you twist the knob to open the door. Understand? Twist the knob.”
Why the hell is this being told to me?

I’m well aware I don’t know everything… yet apparently these ideas do. They know exactly what I am, what I need, and what is right for me. They’re certain in the hilarity that I believe I amount to anything. 

I think they’re right in their confidence, to be fair.

These notions know I’m inadequate. Because they seek to ensure that themselves. 

Many times, I’ve followed advice to fix myself. I was wrong, my methods were incorrect, so I adhered to the tips and tricks — what was considered right by this superior knowledge. 

I got nowhere at best. They counteracted progress and took credit for my achievements at worst. I followed logical processes, doing for the sake of doing. I sounded like a weirdo to others. 

Especially in social situations, it was freakin’ embarrassing. I executed how to converse and meet people’s expectations of me correctly. But the so-called truth I was convinced to presume was outright wrong. 

How many times in college did I encounter a problem and think my solution was too easy? This equation couldn’t evaluate to just “0.” It wasn’t impressive and grand, so I convoluted myself to the incorrect answers. 

My intuition I acted on was deemed wrong, cheating, and not real intellect. I made everything harder to prove I was valid. My reward was wasted time, subpar results, and the collapse of my self-esteem. 

If this ordeal wasn’t ludicrous enough, it’s absurd considering times I was over my head. Times I did think I was indisputably right and knew everything. 

I aggressively displayed confidence — but I wasn’t confident. I tried to prove myself as “great” (a meaningless label), but that act indicated I felt obligated to address insecurities in the first place. 

To feel I needed to refute the opposite, meant I believed the opposite had validity. 

I’ve gained confidence in my beliefs and abilities. Hesitation follows me but at resourceful levels. I hear concepts like “developing a usable application” and believe, “Yeah, I can do that.” — I’d just never describe what I do in those words. This has never been something I’ve thought of in that way. 

I address a topic I once thought was too bold. I don’t waiver in my perspective and experiences anymore. Yet I’d never describe myself as “confidently arguing a point.” 

To write what I truly feel and not what I’m “supposed” to isn’t an active endeavor, but an intuitive one. It is mindlessly thoughtful, I don’t need to “have thoughts” to think. 

Adhering to notions despite my beliefs, on the other hand, was anything but natural. 

I thought confidence was ego. It wasn’t. It was faith. 

Yet, the notions of knowledge villainized that. Any belief in oneself was crass and idiotic. I had to ignore it — even if it meant ignoring what was before me.

“One should humble themselves, and *listen.*”

I realize this absurd irony where knowledge demands humility. It makes sure to nail in my head — “How dare you believe you know anything? There is always someone better.”

But my ego and lack of humility are driven by my insecurities — the same insecurities that “knowledge” cultivates by pummeling my self-worth into the dirt. 

“You’re clueless, you’re wrong. Be humble.~” These words seep further but leave no path forward. It corners me, triggering a defensive response — “No, I ~am knowledgeable. I ~am smart, I know everything I need to. ~No one can tell me otherwise.”

I say this, even if I don’t believe what I say.
I’m squashed and buried 6 feet under if I don’t.

The impossibly fake goals beget boastful, fake responses. These notions of knowledge demand solutions when they cause the problem and actively prevent solving it.

“Yeah, I know that~ (I don’t). Yeah, I never falter~ (I do). I’m integrating deep solutions within the problem domain to address the nuanced bottlenecks in the social dilemma with critical thinking and problem-solving~. Using AI~ (.txt files).” 

I’ve felt more confident, as I know what I’ve experienced. Contrary to my ingrained beliefs, self-belief hasn’t ballooned my ego. I actually overplay less, because I’m not pressured to overplay lies to fit an impossible standard. 

Even if my work doesn’t fit the facade of intellectualism,
I see the impact of my simplicity. I know my truth. 

This doesn’t mean I never consider ideas outside my own. It’s funny how I feel obligated to disclaim that. I even hesitate to admit that, because these notions took a mile when I gave an inch.

The demands to take criticism made it seem as if one needed to grovel and beg for the wisdom of this elite class to fix oneself. A constant, grueling fight against my ineptitude. My experiences never matched.

So I never thought I took feedback. How awfully close-minded I was. 

But now I remember something... Someone reviewed my code and suggested making a change. I made the change, resubmitted it, and they approved it. 

“Hey, this might cause an issue, maybe try this?”
“Okay. *changes it*”
“Looks good!”

That’s it. Following feedback. This convoluted narrative transformed a polite and natural act into one needing every ounce of will to oppose one’s innate pretentiousness. 

To endure berating of one’s stupidity, and guide oneself toward the light by listening. To shut up, know one’s place, and concede. That is the only answer it provides. 

Breaking The Switch

I’m constantly reminded of what I don’t know. Knowledge is touted as a binary state of knowing and not knowing — I always seem to fall into the latter bin. 

“Real” experience supposedly provides that insight. Nothing I do qualifies as real. Yet when I want to try, the notions come out of the woodwork to tell me — I can’t mindlessly jump into these technical, complex topics. 

There are “prerequisites” — I need to analyze and know everything beforehand. 

I have to do something to gain knowledge, but require knowledge to begin. It’s a catch-22 that leads to an infinite state of nothingness. All the while, the asinine words continue their assault. 

“Why haven’t you done anything?”
JUSTIN: Okay, I’m doing this on my own then. 

“No, you’re not allowed to, you don’t know enough.”
JUSTIN: I guess not. I can’t start then.

“Why haven’t you done anything? You’re worthless.” 

As aforementioned, I dived into topics I never worked with. My rooted intuition was applicable, and I understood most “new” concepts within minutes. 

I recently jumped into using Microsoft Azure. I never used it before. Yet I’d already set up an application’s infrastructure within a few days of searching and working.

Most features were almost mirrors of GCP, just renamed and slightly different. And GCP tools were the same as concepts I knew like… basic logical flow. Just this time, it was in the cloud. 

I don’t know what the product of 83 times 264 is, but I know what multiplication is. So I solve it to 21912 within minutes. My experience has been akin to that — much of this “new” knowledge isn’t new.

And if it is, it’s not unfathomable wisdom. 
As long as it remains within the laws of this universe, I can understand it. 

In school, I was often clueless about where to proceed on problems, until a key insight I found made it seem trivial. A professor described it as an — “aha” moment he sought to give us through lecture. 

Why is it that these previously impossible concepts become simple in hindsight?

Perhaps it’s because I’ve never gained knowledge. I’ve discovered it.

I wasn’t capable of mobile app development before. Not because of fundamental inability, not because I couldn’t know, but because I wasn’t aware. 

I only was aware of how deficient I was, and how complicated and technical everything was. How far out of reach my hopes were. That was my only frame of reference. 

I broke my paralysis by querying ChatGPT one day for mobile development info. I discovered Kotlin’s similar to Java. I landed with Flutter after more experimentation.

“Implementing a mobile app” felt trivial in reality. Show forms here and calculate data there. An API — just sending data, accessing it through a URL, and setting some variables for security. 

A far cry from finding the output of a deterministic finite state machine on paper without the internet. 

It’s a “mobile app” by all means, even if not the most complex. After over a year of unproductive hell, I only needed 1 month and that discovery to achieve it.

Inability didn’t keep me from my goals. I was lost in the directionless cultivated by the world. I could only believe what I heard, as I didn’t know what I didn’t know.

I didn’t know what I heard wasn’t for my benefit. 

I moved forward instantly once I discovered a path, but didn’t become smarter or more intellectual. Finding I knew more than I thought, and how I could progress was my insight.

I’m keen on removing the word “learning” from my lexicon. “Just gaining so much knowledge man~. I’m smarter now. I learned this, and that, and this and that.” 

No, I haven’t. I’m just as smart as the homo-sapiens from eons ago are. I haven’t learned anything. 

I made a discovery.

I discovered nothing exists in a vacuum. I’ve found how harmful and insidious these notions are. 

I realized how they keep one from embarking on their journey. What happens when one is given agency to explore their path, rather than beaten and left out to die.

It’s not that I didn’t know how. 
It’s that I didn’t know where. 

I no longer feel afraid of what I don’t know. I was always made to feel it was a reprehensible weakness. But acknowledging what I don’t know is the first step. 

What I don’t know now excites me, as it’s what I will know soon. I’m confident in my ability to move forward despite the challenges. Challenges are meant to be overcome, unlike knowledge’s demeanment.

I am pissed over what these harrowing lies caused. Existence became so torturous I envisioned stabbing myself to death every day — I even self-harmed in hopelessness by bashing my head into an armrest once. 

Though I probably didn’t even do that right — to “effectively attempt to incur a medical emergency through concussive force methodologies” and “clearly prove one’s cerebral turmoil to prospective onlookers.”

How much time have I lost? What could’ve been had I known better to refute the crushing blows? That’s something I’ll never know. All I can do is stand back up and move forward today. 

I hope my strong, sardonic tone can be forgiven for this day, as I’ve deviated from the zen self-reflection I aim for in writing. After a lifetime of enduring this sh*t, my feelings are vivid enough to warrant profanity — the only way to convey my animosity. 

I believed the demeaning ideas for over 18 years, waiting for the promised land. 

The day my ideas and experiences would become valid.

That day is a fantasy. The keepers of knowledge will ensure that.

The present state of knowledge is not a tool to facilitate progress, but a psychological weapon. And it’s an effective one — exploiting every insecurity and desire to do good. 

If it’s demonic insubordination to trust oneself and not ignore what one sees right in front of them — then I suppose I’m Satan. I might burn in hell, but I already know what it’s like to suffer eternally. 

Thankfully, I’ve gotten prior experience from these notions.
Though I’m sure it doesn’t count as “real” pain to them. It never does. 

The present state of knowledge pours water into the soil, so one’s wheels get stuck. Then they yell about one being stuck. If one tries to progress again, they’ll send a nice kick back into the mud— and denigrate one’s lack of movement again.

My progress came from collaboration, not from concession. I was never “taught” to get unstuck — I worked with others to navigate problems. Eventually, I could help myself. 

Knowledge in its present state only follows a simple mantra — “I know, you don’t know, screw you.” 

It doesn’t work for me, let alone with me.
It works against me. 

I’m inundated with what I don’t know and can’t do. For once, I want to hear what I can do — revitalizing excitement and wonder from discovering the possibilities of this world. 

And not through cheesy infographics, deluges of “need-to-know” buzzwords, and what one dictates as one-size-fits-all. I want to discover what possibilities I can head toward on my own path.

Knowledge was what I sought when I didn’t know what to believe. 
Knowledge is what I gained by believing my lived experiences. 

I’ve been lost for so long, unable to see the next leg. But I’ve discovered what possibilities are in store. The simplicity of what I used to believe was impossible, the validity of notions I’ve had. 

I now know what I need to create the app I want, or set up a site for my writing. It feels like I could’ve done it knowing concepts in my sophomore year of college, but that’s not true — I had to discover this destination my journey’s brought me to.

In truth, I’m tired of knowledge. I’m tired of pedanticism. I waited my entire life to apply my knowledge. The notions claimed I wasn’t ready, yet chastised my lack of doing anything. 

I’m never going to be 100% ready. But I’ve made the plunge myself. It hasn’t been anywhere as difficult as made out. It won’t ever be as difficult as enduring the crap. 

I’ll make mistakes, but that is part of my exploration. 

No matter how difficult it gets, unlike satisfying the demands of knowledge — it’s possible. 

The hell if I “can’t do” without this sacred knowledge first — I’ll copy and paste a line 100 times instead of using a for loop if I want to. Not that I would, but the notion I’m not allowed to start my own endeavor… 

I’m as tired of my lack of “real” work as these notions are. I want to freakin’ do something, and I suppose I somewhat have. But contrary to the belief, I don’t believe I’ve learned more by working on actual stuff — I’ve realized what I can know.

I’ve discovered what happens when knowledge allows one to explore the world by one’s own means. Through sharing, support, and moving forward collectively. 

I want to feel that wonder again. 
It took ages to find a place, but I’ve arrived at my next stop.

So I’ll traverse this path to discover that world again. 

To utilize the strengths in personal experience, creativity, and belief. To build what I always wanted. To trust and navigate what’s right freakin’ in front of me. 

To truly live on one’s path in this world.
To hell with knowledge.